


Bleeding Out

by TheAdventures_of_Me



Series: The Light that comes with Dark [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst-ish behavior, As always Loki does what he wants, Coulson is tickled pink, Fluff, Fury is being a dick as usual, M/M, Mpreg, Plots and Planning, Secrets, Tony sort of joins in on that, as per their usual, but of a Loki sort, sexual happenings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:51:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 113,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1751768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAdventures_of_Me/pseuds/TheAdventures_of_Me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things happen, and as is the nature of the universe, there's nothing anyone can really do to stop them, god or human. The point of all these things are really just seeing how people deal with them, and what that sort of dealing changes. It's Tony and Loki against the world, with possibly a few more allies than they originally thought they'd have.</p><p>Sequel to "This is Gospel". You should probably read that first. It's great, I promise *half-assed self promotion*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Take it In

**Author's Note:**

> I AM BACK, DARLINGS! Hello again ♥  
> Now, I would just like to say that I am all sorts of awful at beginnings, so I've kind of skipped all that junk. This part is really a middle, so I've just jumped into the story. But you lovely beings are hopefully all caught up, so I'm choosing to believe that a more beginning-like opening would just be plain tedious to you. Here's to hoping you all like this! *crosses fingers and hopes*
> 
> Please enjoy my second piece, Bleeding Out  
> (which will hopefully be not as bad as the title implies)
> 
> Also, postings will be every Saturday, as usual :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM BACK, DARLINGS! Hello again ♥  
> Now, I would just like to say that I am all sorts of awful at beginnings, so I've kind of skipped all that junk. This part is really a middle, so I've just jumped into the story. But you lovely beings are hopefully all caught up, so I'm choosing to believe that a more beginning-like opening would just be plain tedious to you. Here's to hoping you all like this! *crosses fingers and hopes*
> 
> Please enjoy my second piece, Bleeding Out  
> (which will hopefully be not as bad as the title implies)
> 
> Also, postings will be every Saturday, as usual :)
> 
> *The Bucky/Steve pairing is closer to the end, and there's an extra just for them side story at the end of the last chapter, for those of you who feel like skipping through my glorious work*

Time passes, languidly at points, slowly, determinedly, making each minute known. At other points, it is there and gone, spent in the blink of an eye, and leaving whatever poor creature that had been ensnared in its trap disoriented and perhaps even confused. The point is that time passes, in whatever way it chooses, but it does pass, completely unyielding to the wishes of what it affects. Time is not human, after all. It is not some lowly thing to be swayed and changed by the whims of others. Neither, for that matter, is Loki.

He hums as he strolls into the kitchen on the common floor, intent on making use of the stove, desiring a hot breakfast for a change. It is early in the morning. The sun has only just begun to creep over the horizon. Tony is asleep, and will likely stay asleep for a while longer. Usually Loki would stay with him, enjoying the rare peace of simply being in Tony’s presence, before all the madness of the day and the brilliance of Tony’s mind. When his silly human is awake, peaceful is perhaps the last word Loki would use to describe him. Today, though, Loki woke up hungry, and he wanted breakfast, so he left Tony sleeping, absolutely positive that Tony will still be asleep when he slips back into bed.

It is still early enough that Loki is positive he is the only one making use of the common floor. Rogers will most likely be up and jogging through the streets of the city, not to return for an hour or more. Barton and Thor will not be awake until much later in the day, probably once the morning is long gone. The beast, Banner, has probably gone to bed only recently, and is unlikely to awaken until the time comes for the evening meal. This is all speculation, of course, but it is enough that Loki feels comfortable humming as he works. Sometimes he sings around Tony.

It is only Romanov he is unsure of, as her patterns are anything but predictable. She is an impressive woman. After sticking his head in the fridge and going over what he has to work with, Loki decides that he would like eggs for breakfast. He grabs the carton and places it on the counter, turning next to the cupboards, rooting through them to see if he can find any herbs to cook with. Plain eggs are acceptable as well, but Loki does love flavor. Behind him, he hears the barest puff of air. “Would you like some eggs as well, little spider?” A snort is his only reply, so Loki shrugs and makes sure he has enough for two. When he turns to face the breakfast bar, Romanov is seated comfortably, watching him with amusement. Her silence is nothing new, so Loki just continues making food, his humming gone silent.

There was a point, after a prank that had gotten a little out of hand, that Loki had had to cook for himself for a very long while, for his own safety. People never really could take a joke. In any event, he had discovered that he rather liked cooking. Nothing is quite as satisfying as food done well, and when one has a specific meal in mind, it is best that they cook it themselves.

Romanov watches closely as he cooks, probably trying to make certain he does not poison the food, or something equally ridiculous. As if Loki would be so foolish as to poison any of them in his own home. He would definitely be more creative than that. Of course, Loki does not share this information. He likes the way they circle him, trying to find a crack in his masks. Little do they know that in this building, in his home, whoever might be present, the only mask Loki wears is his skin. He has nothing to hide from these people in his daily behavior. He refuses to hide from these people.

An idea suddenly comes to him. Loki turns back to the fridge to gather a few more supplies for his omelet. Some spinach and cheese should taste wonderful with what he has already started. He saw something like that in one of the cook books he bought. Tony had laughed when he saw those, saying that Loki could not really cook at the tower, as well as something along the lines of cooking not being appropriate princely behavior. Loki had pinched him, cackling gleefully when Tony yelped, and had said that he just liked to know. That is really the only reason Loki does anything.

A delicious smell begins to rise from the pan in front of him. Loki grins and hums appreciatively. His breakfast is going to be wonderful. It would be nicer if Tony was going to eat with him, but the idiotic human really cannot stand food first thing in the morning. Also, there are green things in this, so it would be even harder to get Tony to eat it. Loki has taken to liquefying vegetables, removing the flavor and color but leaving everything good, and hiding them in Tony’s coffee. So far, he has remained unaware. With his personal habits, it really is quite the achievement that Tony has managed to survive this long.

That thought brings a shadow on Loki’s good mood. He has yet to talk to Thor. In fact, he has been avoiding it. Unreasonable, really. Loki has no excuse. In fact, he is lucky that nothing else has happened so far. Tony assured him that life-threatening missions are extremely rare, something that hardly ever happens. Tony assured him that he can look after himself, and Loki believes him, he really does, but he would also prefer to cover all his bases and make Tony untouchable. Secretly, of course.

Finally, his breakfast is done. He places the massive omelet on the breakfast bar in front of Romanov before turning to get cutlery and plates, still lost in his thoughts. Romanov’s attention has gone from Loki to the food, and Loki cannot help but smile at that when he notices. _His_ food is good enough to distract a master assassin. Perhaps he has a chance of persuading Tony to eat some after all.

His smile does not last, however.

A spasm goes through him, hardly painful but uncomfortable to an extreme. Surprise flits through Loki’s mind as his fingers open against his will and all the dishes he had been holding crash to the floor. Again, hardly painful, but _terribly uncomfortable._ Inwardly, Loki begins to panic.

Magic is running through him, _magic that is not his,_ while his body continues to spasm. He cannot find his own to counteract it, nor to even examine it. Loki almost falls to his knees, right on top of the mess of broken plates and cutlery, but Romanov is at his side before that can happen. Against his will, Loki leans on her. His knees are wobbling, threatening to give out. Romanov grunts when she really feels his weight and starts to lead him over to the couch. Loki feels momentarily sympathetic for her. She truly cannot support his weight for long. It is a slow process, getting to the couch, but eventually they get there and Loki collapses onto it gratefully.

He knows he’s pale, probably even a bit green. A cold sweat has started up, and Loki shivers through it, trying to remember the last time he had actually felt cold. It must be psychosomatic, at least partially. Black dots dance before his eyes, and his ears are ringing. Romanov is trying to say something to him, but he cannot tell what her words might be. He shakes his head, trying to clear it, but the movement only manages to make it a bit worse. Spasms still run through him, making him twitch oddly all over as that damned foreign magic runs through him. It feels odd, so very odd, and old, older than most anything Loki has ever experienced.

Vaguely, Loki realizes that he is panting, and that Romanov is still trying to talk to him. Loki attempts to wave his hand, trying to brush aside her concern. “Fine,” he pants out. “I am fine. Magic spasm,” he says, by way of an explanation.

The magic going through him concentrates on his abdomen, which is confusing to say the least. The unpleasant sensations kick up a notch, making Loki wince and wiggle around. He feels loose in his own skin, but at the same time much too confined. Abruptly, one final enormous shudder passes through him, and then Loki is fine, almost as if nothing had even happened. For a moment, he feels utterly confused. Nothing feels wrong, there does not seem to be any sort of foreign influence present any longer. Warily, Loki reaches for his own magic and allows a scan of sorts to pass through his body, looking for anything that does not belong. He sits up straighter as the spell notifies him that there is nothing hostile in him. It does not make any sense.

“Loki?” The god in question holds up his hand, stopping Romanov’s flow of words. His eyes narrow and he adjusts the spell, searching for something—anything—that would not have been present when he began his morning. This time, he does find something. A warm glow in his abdomen, brought to his attention by the magic but a steady part of his awareness now that he has found it. It is a feeling that Loki knows well, a feeling that makes his eyes fly wide open, shocked at the sheer _impossibility_ of that feeling being able to exist, here and now and under these circumstances. Fear and joy and confusion tears through him, and for a second, Loki has absolutely no idea how to react, how to deal with this new information, how to even begin _processing it,_ and it shows on his face. He knows it does. Centuries of control slip away in the blink of an eye, and for a brief second, Loki is wholly visible.

But that second passes, and Loki schools his features. Romanov is watching him, the barest hint of concern evident in her eyes. Loki tries for a reassuring smile, control sliding back into place. “My apologies. Magical spasms are uncommon, but not unheard of. They are painless, yet deeply unpleasant. There is no need for concern.”

Romanov tilts her head. “That one looked pretty violent. Is Tony okay?”

Loki takes a quick moment to check; he had forgotten about Tony, and is relieved with what he finds. “He is still asleep and blissfully unaware.” Unaware of everything. The relief only increases. Loki does not know if he is ready to share this with Tony yet.

Remembering his breakfast, Loki stands and goes back to the kitchen. Romanov follows him, concern and curiosity coloring her gaze. Loki ignores her and waves his hand. The smashed dished fit themselves back together and fly into his hands, unmarred and seamless in their reconstruction. The cutlery flies to the breakfast bar, and the omelet heats back to the temperature it had been before Loki made a mess. Romanov sits quietly and cuts herself a portion of the omelet after Loki beckons her to do so, and he serves himself when she is done.

The food is good, as Loki knew it would be, and he tries to savor it, remembering a time all too well when simple food was something he could not enjoy. Still, one can hardly blame him if he is still distracted by what just happened.

A few silent minutes of chewing pass, and then Romanov turns to him. “Are you going to tell Tony?”

“About the spasm? I see no reason why I should keep it from him. Nothing bad came from it, and it will likely never happen again.” Loki shrugs. “Hardly anything worth hiding.”

Natasha is looking at him oddly. “You’re telling the truth, but I feel like you’re lying.”

Loki grins. “The truth, little spider, is often the best lie of all.”

Her lips twitch in what must be a smile. “You’re okay though?”

“I am unhurt.” Her eyebrow twitches. She does not miss a thing, this Romanov. Thankfully, she lets it go.

“So tell me, where does an Asgardian prince learn to make omelets?”

Loki’s grin turns into a smile. “Now that is a rather interesting story.” And so, the rest of his rather early breakfast is spent pleasantly. Loki tells Romanov about his prank and how it had gotten so quickly out of hand. He is surprised to hear her giggle when he speaks about the results. It is almost enough to distract himself from the glow. He usually enjoys himself around Romanov, even when he was Liam. It is perhaps more enjoyable to be around her now that he is not ‘Liam the boyfriend’ and she is not ‘Natasha the Avenger’. Now, they are simply Romanov and Loki, both trying to gain the upper hand, both aware of the other’s intentions, and both enjoying themselves immensely.

Rogers walks in to the two of them snickering over a story about Thor. His expression immediately looks worried. “Morning Nat,” he pauses, and then, “Loki,” he says with a curt nod.

Loki inclines his head in return. “Captain.” He gestures to the large piece of omelet left over. “Would you like some breakfast?”

“Who made it?”

Loki smirks. “I did.” Rogers visibly hesitates. Loki has to resist the urge to prank him. The captain makes it remarkably easy to find openings, but as of yet, Loki has been good. “It is not poisoned, if that is what you are thinking. I am not so idiotic as to poison you by my own hand,” he says haughtily. Rogers looks even more unsettled, and Loki can resist no longer. “Rest assured that I would be more creative than poison when planning your death. Your food is safe,” he teases. Romanov starts to snicker again, recognizing his sarcastic tone. Steve frowns immensely but cuts himself a piece of the omelet anyways. He pauses again before he takes a bite.

“It was delicious, Steve,” Romanov adds in.

Seemingly mollified by Romanov’s words—if she ate it, surely the food is safe—Steve finally tries the food. He instantly looks appreciative. “Wow, this is actually really good. Can I have the recipe?”

The question surprises Loki. It seems Rogers is momentarily surprised by it as well. Loki laughs. “Unfortunately there is no recipe, Rogers. I just threw some ingredients together. Though I am glad you two appreciate it, Tony would never eat it.”

Romanov smirks. “Because of the vegetables?”

“Or because it’s breakfast?” Rogers asks.

Loki chuckles. “Because of both, I believe.” Rogers laughs a bit before is face turns stern and guarded again, as if he remembered who he is with. Loki sighs. “Come now, Rogers. You liked me when I was Liam.”

“You were lying then. I don’t know what to expect now.”

“Expect more or less the same thing. The only lie I told you was my name. Everything else was truth.”

Steve glowers. “And you expect me to believe you now?”

Loki smiles a little self-deprecatingly. It is a Tony expression, one that Steve recognizes instantly. “No, not really. I would like to say that I was the god of fire and mischief long before I became the god of chaos and lies, and apart from the skin and the name, I am also Liam. Please keep that in mind.” Loki stands and cracks his neck, taking a moment to stretch leisurely. “Well then, I must be off.” He waves his hand casually, and suddenly the plates and utensils are clean. They sort themselves and fly back to their various places. Rogers twitches at the display of magic. “Tony does hate to wake up without me there. Until later, little spider.” Loki gives Romanov a grin. He turns t Rogers and offers up a mock salute. “Captain.” He saunters from the room before either human can move to respond. Romanov’s faint chuckle has Loki smiling as he walks to the elevator.

****

“Is he going to be this annoying from now on?” Steve grumbles, resentfully at his food. It really is delicious, and that makes him scowl all the more.

Natasha grins. “He’s only being like that because that’s what you expect him to be.”

“I’m not expecting anything.”

“Yes you are. It’s a game, Steve, and you’re going to have to learn the rules sometime soon.”

Steve looks shocked. “Nat, this isn’t a game. This is Loki. Just because I gave him a chance doesn’t mean I have to trust him.”

“I’m not telling you to trust him, Steve, I’m telling you to stop expecting something from him. The faster you figure that out, the faster you two are going to start getting along.”

Steve sighs. “I don’t really want to.” He then narrows his eyes. “You don’t seem to have a problem with it, though.”

“Give it a try, Steve. You might actually like what you find.” Natasha looks pointedly at the omelet in Steve’s plate. Steve sighs again, reluctantly seeing her point. Once she’s sure of that, Natasha stands up, brushing imaginary crumbs from her pants. “Anyways, I’m going to wake up Clint and drag him through hell in the gym. He’s been way too lazy lately.”

Steve chuckles despite himself. “Oh man, you’re evil.”

Natasha grins at him as she walks over to the door. Before she leaves, however, she pauses. “Something happened this morning, Steve. Keep an eye on the two of them.”

Steve immediately straightens. “Dangerous?”

“For us? No. For them? Possibly. Though my guess is that Loki is going to try and keep Tony in the dark for as long as possible.”

That last comment sparks Steve’s curiosity. “Do you know what it is?”

Natasha shakes her head. “I have no clue this time.” She looks genuinely disgruntled about that fact.

****

Loki sighs in relief as he slips under the covers next to his lover. Or rather, fiancé. The word is silly, but Tony had refused to be called his ‘betrothed’, claiming that it had sounded too medieval, so fiancé it is. They have yet to inform the others, but not out of any with for secrecy. They just have not decided how to do it, or really even who should do it.

In his sleep, Tony rolls over and pulls Loki closer to him. The god accepts the action with a sigh of contentment. No living soul besides Tony and his mother knows how much Loki loves to be held and cherished, like something small and precious. Loki would most definitely commit murder to keep that secret. Magic can erase or edit memories, but magic can also be overridden. Death is so much simpler and much more practical for keeping secrets.

Loki snuggles closer to Tony, trying to force himself into a relaxed state. Every time he comes close, however, the glowing feeling comes back to claim his attention. The fates are testing him, Loki is sure of it, because this… this is a blessing, something Loki had thought himself no longer worthy of. Looking at the face of the man beside him, a trickle of anxiety makes its way to the forefront of Loki’s mind. This has the potential to be a curse as well.

A strange welling of emotions prompts Loki to lean over and press kisses all along Tony’s face. It does not take long for Tony to wake up enough to capture Loki’s lips and kiss him back enthusiastically. Loki sighs softly and leans into it, keeping the pace slow and languid, but Tony ends it sooner than Loki would have liked. He does not move away, thought, but instead nudges his nose against Loki’s. “What’s wrong, Reindeer Games?”

Loki sighs. “You can always see through me so easily.”

“Yeah, well, I blame the bond.”

“You had that rather unfortunate talent for far longer than the bond has existed. You have not even peeked in my mind now.”

“True,” Tony agrees easily. “So are you going to tell me what’s wrong or do I have to guess? Cause if I had to guess I’d say you’re leaving me for Steve. Captain America is a lot more glorious than Iron Man, after all,” Tony babbles happily while tracing his fingers up and down Loki’s back. The silly chatter is exactly what Loki needs, and he finally relaxes fully.

“Can you blame me, darling? He is a sight more… patriotic.” Tony snickers at the comment, and Loki allows himself a small smile.

“So?” Tony is looking at him expectantly, and Loki decides to provide some sort of answer.

“I had quite the scare this morning.”

Instantly, concern begins to radiate from Tony. “Yeah? What happened?”

“A spasm in my magic.”

Tony tilts his head, obviously confused. “A what?” Loki is pleased that despite his inability to understand the situation, Tony’s fingers have not stopped tracing patterns on his back.

“Something like a muscle spasm,” Loki explains carefully, “but in my magic.”

“Oh.” Tony winces. “So basically a full-body magical Charlie Horse?” Loki nods. “Shit that’s awful. Are you okay? Does that happen a lot?”

_No, not really._ “It is uncommon, but not unheard of.” _For me._ “This was my first experience with the occurrence.”

“Seriously? Any side effects?”

Loki almost bursts into hysterical laughter. There is an extremely enormous ‘side effect’, but Loki wants to keep that to himself for as long as possible. “Yes, there is one side effect, but it is nothing bad.” _It is wondrous._ “There is nothing you need concern yourself with.” _At the moment._

Tony gives him a look. “If it involves you, I’m concerned.”

Loki presses a quick kiss to Tony’s lips. “If it becomes an issue, I will tell you.” _Eventually._

Tony examines him for a second, eyes searching, before he slumps a little, letting a wry smile light up his features. “That’s all I’m getting, isn’t it?”

Loki nods, trying to suppress his own grin. “For now, darling.”

“Fine, I’ll take it. As long as you’re not leaving me for Steve.” A wicked smile stretches across his face. “But there’s consequences for waking me up so early.”

Loki grins from ear to ear. “Of course, darling. Fates forbid I stop you from exacting righteous punishment on me.”

Tony is snickering before Loki even finishes. “Fuck you,” he says fondly, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Loki’s lips.

The god smirks. “If that is what you desire, I am amenable to it. Perhaps in the shower?”

“Who am I to refuse a god? Lead the way, Lo-lo.”

Chuckling, Loki does so. Despite all his words of punishment and consequence, Tony’s touch is loving and gentle. This is still new, Loki getting fucked instead of doing the fucking, and it probably will be for a while longer. The feeling of being filled is still new as well, and Loki enjoys it. He groans, feeling Tony’s own pleasure bleeding through the bond. If the human had not been truly awake before, he certainly is now, but his movements remain slow and languid, the very picture of lazy morning sex, albeit in the shower.

There is no rush, and allowing the pleasure to slowly build this way is just as enjoyable as a hard, fast fuck. Loki wonders how this will feel later on, as he is definitely going to be confined to the receiving end of their relationship in the rather near future. His thoughts are chased out of his mind when Tony does something just so with his hips, and Loki keens softly. Tony begins to chuckle when he hears it, and Loki would be embarrassed, except for the fact that he has drawn far more amusing noises out of Tony, and also because Tony moves differently when he is laughing.

It is not long before Loki feels the tension building, getting ready to snap. He can feel Tony’s pleasure echoing his own, and when Tony reaches around to take him in hand, they both groan. Loki opens their bond even more than it already is, and Tony quickly latches onto him, holding Loki as close as physically and mentally possible. They find release in unison, Loki shouting out and Tony groaning as he bites Loki’s shoulder. Their orgasms ricochet across the bond, doubling their own feelings and becoming nearly blinding in its intensity.

When Loki gets a fraction of his mind back, he is relieved to see that they are still standing. A shower floor is not a comfortable place to be, regardless of whether or not that shower floor is made of Italian marble. It is a miracle that they even managed to stay standing, but with more and more of his mind returning to him, Loki realizes that he is the one who is holding Tony up, and though his knees are shaking, Loki refuses to fall. He has done that enough this morning.

Loki leans his head on the cool tiles, the water still pouring over them. The events of this morning, pleasantly driven away by sex, come rushing back. Loki shields those thoughts from Tony and then nudges his fiancé with his elbow. He is beginning to get uncomfortable. Tony gets the hint and pulls out. Loki hisses involuntarily, because it feels so strange. Tony presses a kiss to Loki’s neck. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he sighs happily.

Loki smiles despite his worry and unease over his situation. “Of course I am, I am a god.” Tony does not have to see Loki’s face to know he is smiling. Loki can feel glowing amusement filtering through the bond.

“And I’m Iron Man, way cooler than a god. Homemade, baby,” he teases. He is trying and failing to sound upset.

Loki is feeding steady sensations of warmth and happiness into the bond. “Glad to know that the man I have chosen is humble and modest,” Loki says dryly. “Now be a dear and pass me the soap, darling, I do not want to spend all day in the shower.”

“I don’t see why that’s a bad idea,” Tony says, grinning but handing the soap over all the same.

“Well for one, you will become even more wrinkled than you already are, and I would prefer to avoid that.” A few seconds pass, and then Loki bursts into laughter at the sound of Tony’s squawk of rage, that is, until Tony takes down the shower head and sprays water in Loki’s face. As can only be expected, a large water fight ensues that leaves the bathroom considerably more wet than it should be, and two grinning idiots dripping on the rug.

Probably trying to take advantage of the moment, Tony turns what he must think is a sneaky glance at Loki. “So about that side effect?”

Loki’s gut clenches. “You are still getting nothing, darling.” He gives Tony a quick kiss and stalks out of the bathroom, braiding his hair as he goes.


	2. Close My Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's week two :D
> 
> I would like a moment to say thank you to everyone who has left a positive comment about my work. Some of you made my cry, and I appreciate your words, so thank you ♥ 
> 
> I would also like to say that yes, this fic does include mpreg, but of a more Loki influenced style. I had intended to keep this a secret (of a sort) and use it as a major plot reveal, but comments have led me to think that I should just announce it. To those that will not read mpreg, thank you for reading so far, and you are missing out on a great story.
> 
> Anyways, back to the story! (I had no editing time, please let me know if you find any mistakes)

Tony is still slightly worried about Loki. Something happened this morning, Tony vaguely remembers some strange dreams that were probably fueled by the bond, but nothing concrete enough to make him outright worried. No, what he finds most alarming are the blocked off sections of Loki’s mind. They’re smooth like glass, and foggy, so that Tony can only get the vaguest blurs from them, and they most definitely weren’t there yesterday. But Loki already made it clear that he doesn’t want to share, and since Tony’s not getting any bad vibes he decides to back off for a while. Like before, Tony trusts that Loki will tell him when he’s ready.

Shrugging into some clothes, Tony has Jarvis call Bruce and then struts over to his ‘kitchen’ to make himself a coffee.  Bruce picks up pretty quickly. “Hey Tony. Why are you awake at eight in the morning?”

“Surprise sex.”

“Uh… Good for you?” Bruce sounds vaguely disturbed, and Tony can picture the look on his face perfectly. Mister mean and green is a pretty private person, so Tony takes special delight in making him uncomfortable.

“You up for meeting in the lab a little earlier than planned, Brucie?”

“Yeah, sure,” Bruce agrees. “I have the results from the scans I did on you two a couple days ago, and I came up with some really interesting results. I think they’d definitely help us with what we’re working on.”

“Awesome! Bring ‘em down. I’m just going to finish making my coffee and then I’ll jump in the elevator.”

“I’m already down here. Make me a coffee too, since you’re at it.”

Tony makes a face, even though he knows perfectly well that Bruce can’t see it. He has holographic video comms installed in the tower, but nobody really uses them. “I’m not your servant, you can’t just demand coffee like you’re entitled to it,” he says, mock whining but pulling out a second mug as he talks.

“As much milk as possible and no sugar please,” Bruce asks, as unfazed as ever by Tony’s teasing. Tony snorts, because sometimes Bruce’s lack of reaction is the best reaction of all. He disconnects the call, makes the coffees to order, and gets into the elevator. Tony briefly wonders where Loki went off to. He’s still somewhere in the tower, but exact distances with the bond get confusing for him when there’s a floor or more separating them. Tony shrugs, because really, Loki does what he wants, and meets Bruce at the entrance to his lab, handing over the coffee with barely a pout. “Thanks, servant,” Bruce says, grinning into his mug. Tony laughs and flips him off before he struts into his lab.

A soft whirring, almost like cooing, greets him and DUM·E rolls over, as happy as a little robot can be with a new body. Tony smiles and gives him a quick pat. “Hey boy, you been good?” The robot trills and rolls away to show Tony the pile of stuff he’d swept up. A quick look shows Tony that the entire pile is actually garbage with no important or needed things tucked in, and so he offers the robot a smile. “Awesome, great job DUM·E!” It’s important to offer praise for good behavior if he wants that behavior to continue. Another trill, and the robot rolls away, pausing to look at YOU’s disassembled parts. “Later, DUM·E, I promise,” Tony reassures him. Seemingly satisfied, the robot goes to find something to do.

Bruce is watching the whole thing with an amused expression. “He wasn’t here last time.”

“Yeah, I just rebuilt him. I used to keep him at the Malibu house with a couple others, but everything got destroyed. He did too, but luckily his core survived.”

“His name is DUM·E?”

Tony doesn’t have a chance to reply before the sounds of something crashing to the floor followed by apologetic whirring drift over to them from the other side of the lab. “Let’s just say he’s not the brightest crayon in the box.”

Bruce looks like he’s struggling not to laugh. “Why don’t you just fix him?”

Tony affects an offended look on behalf of his little robot buddy. “Because he’s not broken, he’s just got character.”

Then DUM·E rolls back over, offering Bruce a bag of dried blueberries. Bruce finally does laugh and takes the bag from him. “Alright, I like him.” DUM·E whirrs excitedly and scoots off.

“Now you’ve done it. He’s going to keep trying to sneak you food whenever he thinks you look hungry,” Tony warns.

“I think I can manage a happy little robot bringing me snacks. Now, do you want to see the scans or not?”

“Yeah, yeah. Jarvis, bring ‘em up!” The scans flash up on all of the surrounding screens, and Tony only has to look at the general pattern of the wavelengths before a grin spreads across his face. “Oho, now that’s something I can play with.”

Bruce shakes his head, whether in defeat or in disapproval, Tony can’t tell. “Don’t you think you should be getting your boyfriend to help you combine magic and tech?”

“Nah, it’s a surprise. And we’re not _combining_ it, we’re creating magic _with_ tech. Big difference.”

“Yeah, sure. I see now.” A sigh and another head shake. “If it’s even possible…”

Tony snorts. “I’m Iron Man, everything is possible.”

“If you say so.” The two go quiet and work in a companionable silence. Bruce has no trouble navigating around Tony’s chaotic lab. He’s actually quite a bit more efficient in it than Tony is. Bruce works steadily and intently. Tony flits from idea to idea like a butterfly in a field of flowers. He’s constantly moving, whether it’s tapping his feet or spinning around in his chair to grab something because just getting up to retrieve it is no fun at all. For Tony, his lab is a place to play around and make cool stuff. For Bruce, the lab is a place to relieve stress and discover. Despite their very different working styles, Bruce and Tony don’t get in each other’s way.

However, perhaps because of their working styles, they both come up with completely different results while working on the same project. That’s why Tony loves working with Bruce so much. He tends to see a problem from a certain angle and ignore the others views, convinced that his is the best and the others aren’t worth investigation. Bruce sees and works with different views, and when combined with Tony’s, the end product is sublime.

A couple hours pass before Bruce clears his throat. “So… you and Loki, huh?”

Tony can’t help but snicker at the question. “It’s been two weeks and you’re asking me now?”

Bruce shrugs. “We’ve been on opposite schedules for a while, and Loki was with you almost every time I saw you.”

“Why not just ask me in front of him?”

Another shrug. “I’m not comfortable around him, he makes me feel on edge.”

“Fair point. I’m sure you’ll get used to him.”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Bruce mutters. “How do you even stand him?”

“It’s surprisingly easy.” Tony pauses for a second, wondering if now would be a good time to tell Bruce that he and Loki are engaged. The rest of the team doesn’t know yet. Loki had said that he doesn’t care either way if Tony tells them, but he had been adamant that Tony be the one to tell them. He’s actually surprised that it’s taken him two weeks so far, but then again, he’d had a bond to run tests on and a god to fuck, so really, he can’t be blamed. It had honestly slipped his mind. “Actually, it’s more than easy. I love having him around. I love _him._ Or at least, I better love him because I asked him to marry me.” Tony drops this bomb without looking up from his work. He has to suppress a snicker when he hears Bruce accidentally knock something to the floor.

DUM·E whirs in concern and goes to pick the item up, because Bruce seems like he’s too shocked to do it himself. “Marriage?” He asks weakly.

Tony is enjoying this way too much. “Yup.”

“That doesn’t seem like you at all. I tried to get you to commit to a joint project and you started freaking out. Are you feeling okay?”

Tony laughs, good and hard. “Yes I’m feeling okay. And it totally sounds like me. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have this thing where I don’t like it when people touch my stuff. Loki is mine, and I’m making sure everyone knows it.”

Bruce cracks a grin. “Okay, that seems more familiar. But I still can’t get my head around it.”

“You’ve got time,” Tony says, snickering. “I don’t think any more big news will be coming for a while.”

“There’s more?” Bruce sounds distressed.

“Not yet. But I’m not gonna rule it out for good. Something is going to spring up, I can feel it in my toes.”

Bruce gives him the strangest look. “Why your toes of all places?”

“You got something against my feet, big guy?”

“Not at all. Though I sometimes wonder why I bother talking to you.” Tony does his best to manage an affronted look at Bruce’s words, but the doctor doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer screen, so it ends up being a wasted effort. A few minutes later, Bruce picks up the conversation again. “So, have you told anyone else yet?”

“Nah, just you so far.”

“Oh, gee, I’m honored.” And damn, for a man that’s so Zen all the time, his sarcasm levels are through the roof. Another point as to why Tony likes hanging around with him. DUM·E trills, calling attention back to the stylus he’s holding out for Bruce, and the doctor accepts it with a small smile. He turns back to his work before looking at Tony out of the corner of his eye. “You can tell the others at that ridiculous team dinner that Steve’s making us do. Might make the whole thing more interesting.”

Tony thinks about it for a second, thinking that it’s actually a good idea, get it all over with in one go, and then winces, vowing to sit as far from Thor as possible. “Will do,” he agrees.

“Great. Now what do you think of this set of algorithms? I feel like I’m missing something.” Tony wheels over to look at Bruce’s screen while mentally adding another thing to the list of reasons of why Bruce is awesome: he takes the news, he says his piece, and he’s done. Tony thinks he should give Steve lessons.

Barely an hour later, the comms beep and Loki’s voice comes through. “Tony, take a break and come up for lunch. I was promised an outing, if memory serves correctly.”

Tony groans. “Ah shit, I forgot.”

“I know. Why did you think I am bothering to remind you?”

“Can I take a rain check, Lo? I’m leaving for Malibu tomorrow, and I really want to get some work done. How about we go when I get back?”

Agitation leaks through the bond. “I refuse to wait an entire week when you can give me time now. And do not try and tell me that you do not have enough time, you began working hours earlier than you usually do. I expect you up in fifteen minutes, Stark.” The comms cut out.

Tony just sighs and shakes his head while quickly finishing up the set of algorithms he’d been working on. Bruce stares at him incredulously. “You’re going?”

“Yeah. I did promise him. And besides, he’s kind of on edge today, and I am leaving for a week, so I’m just going to indulge him. Usually he couldn’t care less what I do as long as I come to bed at some point.”

“Huh…” Bruce still looks like he’s having trouble processing the whole situation. “I see… Have fun on your date.”

Tony waves as he exits the lab. By the time he’s dressed and ready, Loki is waiting impatiently on the common floor. Steve is sitting next to him, sketching in a note pad. “Alright, Lo, where do you want to go?”

Loki answers quickly, probably because he’s decided a while ago. “One of those bistro places near that antique bookstore I found.”

Tony scrunches his face. “Aw jeez, Lo, really? Can’t we get burgers or something?” Loki just raises an eyebrow, giving Tony a look. Tony sighs. “Yeah, yeah, I know, disgusting Midgardian inventions,” he mumbles sullenly, like a school kid being told to recite the rules he just broke.

Loki smiles at his tone, and Steve tries to pass off a laugh as a cough. “Do not get upset, darling, we will go to the one with the coffee you enjoy.”

Tony perks up immediately. “Oh yeah, I remember that place. That’s a good place.”

“Yes, I am aware.”

“Alright then, Reindeer Games, lead the way.” Loki rolls his eyes and stalks toward the elevator, shifting into Liam as he goes. And honestly, as much as Tony sees that it’s probably never going to stop looking cool.

“Don’t eat too much,” Steve calls, “dinner is at six.”

“Yeah, sure thing, mom.” Used to Tony’s ridiculous ways, Steve just throws the engineer salute and continues working on his drawing.

A few minutes of silence in the elevator has Tony watching Loki out of the corner of his eye. Ordinarily, the god would have snickered when Tony teased Steve. Instead, Loki had flinched mentally before hiding his unease behind a wall. As per his usual, Tony decides to fill the silence with meaningless chatter. “So Bruce and I started working on a new project, and I think it’ll be pretty awesome. We’re making a cloaking device that will hopefully work like your illusion magic. Hopefully is the key word, though, because we can sort of accomplish it now, but the prototype would be _huge_ and we’re kind of aiming for something the size of a watch and just as unobtrusive. Also, right now if you move while it’s on, the cloaking won’t cover you. Tasha will be all kinds of happy if we can pull it off,” Tony babbles, his work being the only subject to come to mind.

Loki doesn’t really look like he’s listening, but Tony’s used to that and he figures it’s no big deal. Because Loki seems so off today, Tony acting normally is probably a good thing, since both of them being out of it would most likely be not good. That damn wall in Loki’s mind is bothering him to no end, but Tony decides to leave it be. Intruding on the god’s thoughts in an attempt to break it down is probably the quickest way to turn the situation into a clusterfuck.

Surprisingly, or really not that surprisingly at all, Tony is able to chatter away about his new project all the way to the restaurant. His distraction technique mostly works, because by the time they arrive and get a table, Loki is even adding in his own theories and opinions, making Tony think he’s dodged a bullet. Loki’s thoughts are calmer now, but still behind the wall.

Not too far into their lunch, Tony hears a high-pitched little squeal, and then a toddler runs at him, awkward on his chubby legs and absolutely adorable. His little voice is crying out “Iron Man!” and Tony turns to him with a smile. A couple steps from the table, the little boy trips, but Tony manages to lunge forward and catch him.

“Easy now, little man.” He lifts the boy up onto his lap. “How about you wait here until your mom finds you.” The little boy looks absolutely delighted about this, and he starts telling Tony about the Iron Man costume he has at home that he made with his dad. Tony nods along, looking impressed at all the right places and telling the boy about his suit in return. When the kid finds out that Tony doesn’t have his suit with him today, he looks absolutely crestfallen. Tony immediately feels guilty. “Aw, I’m sorry kid. But you know what?”

“What?” Asks a little voice.

“I actually think your suit is much better than mine.” The kid lights up like a Christmas tree, positively beaming.

“That’s cause my dad helped,” he informs Tony proudly.

Loki chuckles. “Your father must be an extraordinary man.”

The kid nods. “He’s the best.”

Even though he’s really enjoying the kid, Tony begins to look around for his mom, because honestly, he’s too young to be running around alone, and somebody is probably really worried about him.

“Dean? Dean, where are you?” A woman is shouting frantically a little ways off.

Tony looks down at the kid. “Are you Dean?” The boy nods. “That’s an awesome name,” he tells the kid seriously. Then he stands up, settling the boy on his hip as he does so. “Alright, Dean, let’s go stop your mom from worrying. I’ll be right back, Lo.” Tony walks away with the kid in the direction of the woman’s voice. Dean gives Loki a happy wave, which the god returns with a soft expression.

It doesn’t take long for Tony to find the frantic woman. “Hey Dean,” he announces loudly, “I found your mom!”

The woman spins around and stops, shock clear in her eyes. Well, no mother is ever really prepared for the sight of Tony Stark balancing a happy toddler on his hip. She recovers herself rather quickly. “Oh, Dean! Oh thank god! Mr. Stark, I am so sorry!” She rushes over and takes Dean from him.

Tony quickly surrenders the kid. “No worries, you’ve got an awesome kid, I had fun talking to him.”

“Iron Man says my suit is better than his!” Dean chirps happily.

Tony can’t help but crack a grin. “You bet, kiddo. In fact, I’m kind of jealous.”

Dean’s mom laughs; the kid looks too happy to even form words. “Thank you so much, Mr. Stark. I hope we didn’t interrupt anything.”

“Nah, your kid’s exceptional, my date and I had a blast with him. I probably should’ve come looking for you sooner, actually,” he tacks on sheepishly. “I probably interrupted your lunch.”

“Oh, um, no, no,” the woman looks mildly embarrassed. “We can’t afford a place like this. A stay at home mom and a soldier don’t make a lot of money.”

“Your husband’s a soldier?”

“Yes.” Now the woman looks proud. “He’s on deployment in Afghanistan.”

“Mama says my daddy’s a hero too,” Dean informs Tony happily.

Tony smiles. “They’ve got a good base there. My friend Rhodey’s out on deployment as well. I hope your husband comes home safe.”

“He will,” the woman responds with absolute certainty.

For a second, Tony thinks she’s being a little too optimistic, but then he thinks that he really wouldn’t be able to function very well (a.k.a. at all) if he accepted that someone he loved might not survive. Considering that, Tony agrees with her, and decides to do something nice. “Why don’t you two grab a table and enjoy some lunch? On me.”

“Mr. Stark, we couldn’t possibly accept that. I have food at home.”

Tony just waves a hand. “Nah, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. But, if you really don’t want me to pay for it,” he leans in conspiringly, “you can always trade me the kid, I need some minions.”

Dean giggles and his mom laughs, as Tony knew they would. “Fine, fine, if it’s a choice between Dean and a free lunch,” she goes to hand Dean over to Tony, and the kid squeals. At the last second, she pulls Dean back to her, smiling. “I’ll take the lunch.”

“Awesome! Order whatever you want, and the bill will come straight to me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my date.”

“Thank you!” She calls after him.

“Thank you, Iron Man!” Dean’s little voice calls a second later. Then, “Mama, can I have cake for lunch?”

Tony’s still laughing when he gets back to his table, and Loki is watching him with the oddest expression. He looks like he’s trying his best to stop a smile from spreading across his face, probably a warm and slightly relieved one, judging by the background feelings seeping through the bond. Tony grins back at him, sits down and grabs his coffee. Thankfully, it’s still a good temperature. Loki’s look turns into something almost like deep thought, his eyes focused on somewhere in the distance but somehow still focused on Tony. The engineer pauses with his coffee cup hovering just in front of his lips. “What?” A corner of his mouth is turned up, and he for some reason enjoys seeing Loki with that expression.

The god shakes his head, finally allowing a hint of a smile to light up his features. “Nothing.” He tilts his head in the kid’s direction. “You like children?”

“Yeah. They’re so awesome, you know? Nothing is more fascination than hearing about a kid’s view of the world.” Loki hums in agreement, finally losing the last bit of tension in his shoulders. His smiles come easier, and a bit of the guarded look in his eyes disappears. By the time their food arrives, Loki is casually flicking little bits of mischief around—changing a person’s hair color here, making a dog’s bark sound like a bird chirping there, et cetera—nothing permanent, of course, but just long enough to see people’s expressions. There is absolutely no way to tell that it’s Loki doing any of it, but their table garners its fair share of weird looks, if only because Tony has surpassed laughing and has descended into unattractive snorting. Loki has to stop before long because it looks as if Tony’s in danger of cracking a rib and also because Loki’s own composure has begun to slip. A straight face is an essential tool for the one pulling the pranks.

As Tony tries to recover himself, Loki begins to pick at his salad with royal dignity, pretty much making Tony look all the worse by comparison. Finally, Tony calms down enough to pick up his own fork and stab at his ‘French fries’.  They’re really just potatoes, and they’re delicious, but just being called ‘French fries’ has Tony laughing every time. He casts a speculative look at Loki’s salad. It actually looks really, really good. He refuses to ask to try any though, because he’d made fun of Loki for getting a salad (it doesn’t matter that there’s meet in it, it’s still a pile of leaves) and also because he can’t stand green things (of the food variety). Unless it’s on pizza.

A couple of quiet minutes pass, and then Tony starts to toy with his fork, more interested in Loki than in food. “So,” he begins, tilting his head to the side, “want to tell me what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Loki innocently spears a cherry tomato and pops the red fruit into his mouth, looking for all the world as casual and relaxed as can be.

Tony isn’t convinced, not with the wall still up in Loki’s mind. “You know exactly what I mean. I’m the one in the dark here, and with that wall in your mind I can’t get a read on you.”

“Wall?” Loki sounds alarmed. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, I say wall, but I guess ‘shield’ is a better way to describe it. It’s slippery like glass, but I can’t see through it, and it’s keeping your major emotions and thoughts from me.”

If anything, Loki looks even more alarmed. “You can see my thoughts?”

Tony waves a hand. “No, not really, I only get the general flavor of them. Can’t you do the same to me?”

Frowning, Loki shakes his head. “No, I cannot. Not without trying, at least. Are you trying to read my thoughts?”

“No. They just come on their own. I didn’t actually realize how much until you started blocking me.”

“Fascinating.” Loki’s voice is both curious and strangely flat. “Can you feel this?”

A slight pressure build up in Tony’s head. “Yeah, what are you doing?”

“Feeling the flavor of your thoughts,” Loki answers, somewhat distracted. He looks as if he’s retreated into his own mind, examining everything as much as he can.

Tony frowns. “How come I can feel it and you can’t?”

“I am unsure. Perhaps you are simply gifted in mental practices. They were never really my area. In fact, of all the magical arts, they were among the most difficult for me. My tutor was quite unimpressed.”

Tony knows it’s a distraction tactic, but he can’t resist the bait. He loves hearing about Loki’s magic practices. “Seriously? You had tutors?”

“Of course I did,” Loki scoffs. “Everyone starts off by learning, god or mortal. As a prince, I had access to the best tutors. As did Thor, though you would never know it. I surpassed them all, of course.”

Tony grins. Of course Loki would want to be the best. “Even the mind one?”

Loki’s expression turns sour. “Well, perhaps not him.” A malicious glint sparks in his eye. “But I have time. I am not dead yet.” Tony really wants to know who Loki’s mind tutor was, but judging by his expression, asking would probably open a can of worms that Tony doesn’t feel like dealing with. There will be plenty of time later. Maybe. Tony’s planning on telling his friends that he and Loki are getting married, so later probably won’t come around for a while.

“Since we’ve established that you can’t taste my thoughts, I should probably let you know that I’m going to tell the others about our engagement at dinner tonight. Also, I already told Bruce.”

Loki chews his food thoughtfully before setting his fork down. Honestly, everything he does is deliberate, planned, and graceful. It makes Tony jealous. “I think that is a good plan, provided you keep Thor away from me at all times.”

Tony snorts at that. “Away from both of us, you mean. We’ll make sure Steve and Bruce are between us at the table.”

“A sound plan.  And we shall ensure that Romanov is seated next to him, to at least keep the oaf seated.”

“Perfect! And if anything else happens, you can pop out and I’ll catch up with my suit.” Tony is clearly joking when he says this, but Loki looks like he’s seriously considering the idea. This makes Tony more nervous than he wants to be. “Lo?”

“I will grab you and teleport us both,” he says decidedly. “You will have to go without your suit.”

“Okay, now you’re freaking me out. Thor isn’t going to do anything.” Loki gives him a look that clearly says _don’t be such an idiot._ “Anything we’d have to go into hiding from,” Tony amends. “Besides, isn’t teleporting with two people hard?”

Loki shrugs. “Ordinarily, yes, but not with you. Because of our bond, my magic sees you as an extension of myself.”

“Oh.” Tony lets that eloquent reply hang in the air for a while before he continues, a new idea flashing through his mind. “That’s actually really cool. Do you think I can use your magic but through me?”

All at once, Loki seems to forget about Thor’s existence. An insatiably curious look takes over his face. “I have never considered the possibility. The idea sounds fascinating, and the applications of such an ability…” he trails off, sounding impressed despite himself. “How do you suppose we would attempt it?”

“I have absolutely no idea.” Tony grins. “But we are _so_ experimenting with it when I get back from Malibu.” The idea is exciting. Tony imagines himself able to use magic and wonders what kind of modifications he can add to his suit with magical assistance. Even the thought of doing it leaves Tony absolutely delighted. The rest of their lunch is spent debating different possibilities and what methods they might use to achieve them.


	3. What was Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm so sorry for the late update, Saturday found me with a cold and hangover both, and... well... I'm sure you all can imagine how lovely that must have been...
> 
> Anywho, third chapter is up! Hooray! Thank you for everyone who has read so far and thank you to everyone who left a nice comment, you guys make me feel like I have a purpose in this world ♥
> 
> Please enjoy :D  
> (Also, if there are any spelling/grammatical errors I would love you forever if you let me know)

Of course, after lunch Loki insists on going to the bookstore. Tony should’ve seen it coming, what with the restaurant being practically right next to it, but he still manages to complain and grumble as they walk the short distance down the street. He thinks it’s pretty impossible for the bookstore to have anything that Loki doesn’t already own, which makes the whole trip a waste. Loki just laughs at him and proves him wrong by finding four new books to bring home, laughing harder when Tony sheepishly adds one for himself to the pile. Once they leave the store, Tony has to suffer through Loki’s teasing. He thinks the god is probably enjoying it a little too much.

There’s still a couple hours before they have to head back to the tower, so they meander around, really just enjoying being around all the little boutiques and shops. As they’re passing a jewelry store, Tony stops and stares at the window contemplatively. Loki walks ahead a few more steps before he realizes that Tony isn’t with him anymore. He walks back and nudges Tony with his elbow. “What is it?”

“Do you guys wear wedding bands on Asgard?”

“What do you mean?”

Tony points to the rings on display in the window. “Rings, usually gold, and you wear them on your left hand.” He holds up his own hand to indicate the specific finger. “They let everybody know you’re married.”

Loki looks thoughtful. “No, we do not. The rings signify that you belong to another?”

Tony nods, and the corners of Loki’s mouth quirk up. “We can look, if you want. I am not opposed to the idea.”

Tony grins, grabbing Loki’s hand and bouncing into the store. “Well then, this place looks interesting.” Loki allows himself to be dragged, an amused expression on his face. Tony’s pretty sure he likes the idea, but of course, Loki only shows polite interest, not wanting to seem too soft. Tony’s not particularly bothered; he knows what Loki’s feeling and the god has never been really free with his true emotions anyways.

This store doesn’t carry any designer brands, but the merchandise is probably just as expensive. Tony immediately likes it because there’s only one of each thing, all hand-made, each piece as unique as a finger print. It totally suits the crazy inventor and the god he’s going to marry, not that Tony would ever let Loki know about that bit of sentimentality. All in all, Tony thinks the shop’s awesome, and he plans on leaving with a ring, despite the fact that they were originally planning on just looking. A glance at Loki’s controlled smile and a slight poke at the bond lets Tony know that he’s thinking the same thing.

But completely unsure as to how he’s supposed to navigate the shelves, Tony walks straight up to the woman behind the counter. “Hi. We’re looking for wedding bands.”

The woman’s head jerks up, and the blinks slowly, staring at Tony in disbelief, and then blinks again. “For… for the both of you?”

“Yes,” Tony says slowly, as if she’s an idiot, “for my fiancé and I.” Beside him, Loki’s giving her his patented look of regal disdain, as if daring her to say anything negative on the subject.

The shopkeeper stares for a couple more seconds before she recovers herself, a business-like persona snapping into place. “Of course. What ring sizes are we working with? As you must have noticed, we only carry unique pieces.”

Loki waves a hand dismissively. “Sizes will not be an issue. Please do not concern yourself with that.”

Her eyebrows draw together in confusion, but Tony’s still smiling pleasantly and Loki is adamant. “…right… uh, what type of material would you prefer? We carry platinum, gold, and silver, as well as a variety of stone rings.”

Tony is intrigued by the thought of stone rings, but Loki speaks up before he can say so. “Gold,” he says decisively. “I am told that is traditional.” He has an air of absolute control and an expectation of getting exactly what he wants, more so than the usual shopper. Tony thinks it’s probably something left over from learning how to navigate Asgardian markets or something. Thor told him once that they’re brutal.

The shopkeeper looks pretty tense because of this attitude, but then Loki flashes her a charming smile and she visibly relaxes. “Yes, it is. We have a lovely selection over here, mostly from local artists.” She leads them over to a display case filled with men’s rings in velvet displays. Rather than pulling out a tray of specific sizes, which Tony can see are clearly marked on each try, she takes them all out after hesitating briefly and noticing Loki’s pointed look.

As soon as the trays are settled on the countertop, Loki quirks his head to the side and chuckles, hand reaching out to pluck a specific ring from its spot. “It would seem that one of your artisans is a history enthusiast.” He toys with the ring, rotating it and examining it in every angle. Tony looks over his shoulder, noticing some runes carved into it at specific intervals, and admiring the whole Nordic feel the ring gives off. It is designed to look crude and aged, thus achieving neither of those qualities, looking instead like it was stolen from a museum display and vigorously cleaned. It looks almost like it’s made of bark, except for the glint of gold and irregular cuts.

“Ah, yes, just let me get the description card.” She slides open a small filing drawer, pulling out a little card. “Hmm, yes, this particular ring was inspired by Nordic roots, and is called, well, I can’t pronounce it, actually…” She trails off and Loki holds his hand out for the card, which she surrenders easily.

He takes a look at it and grins. “Ah, Yggdrasil.” He toys with the ring in his hand. “A fitting name, by all means. I will take this one.”

The shopkeeper smiles and nods, managing to keep her curiosity at bay. “Yes of course.” She takes the ring from Loki and puts it in a box, setting it aside for the moment.

Tony’s really curious to know what the ring actually says, because Loki wouldn’t buy something covered in nonsense gibberish, but the god turns and gives him a look. “I believe you need one as well,” he says, gesturing towards the selection.

Tony waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah, don’t rush me.” They go through almost the entire selection before Tony finds one made of interlocking white and yellow gold, set to look like steel plating and held together by miniscule bolts. Honestly, Tony doesn’t know why the shopkeeper didn’t show him that one first, it’s obvious she knows who he is, but whatever. He found it. Loki snorts when he sees it and decides that the ring was made for Tony.

They pay at the front, and the shopkeeper hands them a little cloth bag with their rings in it. She barely waits until they exit the shop before she runs over to start gossiping with her coworkers. Loki gives the whole display the single eyebrow of condescension. “Why did she look shocked when she was informed of our engagement? Is this abnormal here?”

“Nah,” Tony laughs. “She was probably less shocked because we’re men and more shocked because I’m me.” He looks extremely amused by that fact.

Loki snickers and shakes his head. “Of course, I almost forgot about your infamous bed life. Thank the fates I arrived to clean up your act. You can inform Rogers that I am clearly a positive influence.”

“I’ll tell him at dinner,” Tony assures him sarcastically, smirking at the thought of Steve’s disapproving disbelief. They walk around a bit more, and then they start heading back to the tower.

Tony catches Loki glancing down at the little cloth bag, a thoughtful expression on his face. “This tradition of yours, I assume it says we wear the rings once we are married?”

“Yeah.”

“Might I suggest something different?”

Tony looks at Loki, curiosity building. “Sure?”

“Since we are bonded, perhaps we can do this differently than either of us is acclimated to.”

“Okay, you know I’m curious. And I’m not a stickler for tradition anyways. Shoot.”

Loki smirks, and shakes his head. “I cannot picture you adhering to tradition. We are bonded. Marriage is a formality at this point, but still something important to you. My idea is this: we wear the rings we have chosen for ourselves now, and when we are formally married, we switch them, so we wear a personal mark of the other.” He pauses, giving Tony what can be considered an embarrassed smile, for Loki. “The idea is horribly sentimental, I will admit, but then so is a bond, so it can be excused. I would stake my claim on you sooner rather than later.” His voice dips to a possessive purr, the tone sending tingles straight down Tony’s spine, and making it so he can only nod dumbly as he hands Loki the bag.

Somewhat smugly, Loki takes out Tony’s ring and slide it on the engineer’s finger, and Tony reciprocates the action for the god. He grabs Tony’s left hand with his, tilting his head in consideration. He whispers a word, and the rings flash, glowing white hot but not giving off any heat. Tony watches in fascination, until finally the glow fades. Looking at his ring, Tony raises his eyebrow in a weak impression of Loki’s usual look. “Did you put an arc reactor on my ring?”

He is answered with a smirk. “Fitting, is it not? Though it was not intentional. I imbued the rings with our essence, and it seems that the reactor is an integral part of yourself.” He looks incredibly pleased with that result, so Tony just shakes his head and laughs, unable to keep himself from running a finger over the modified ring.

A few more blocks pass, and Tony suddenly has an idea. “Hey, Reindeer Games, we’re forgetting a really important part of Midgardian tradition.”

Loki turns to him with a raised eyebrow and a grin. “Are we, now?” Tony nods and pulls Loki in for a kiss, probably one that’s a bit much for being in public, but he’s Tony Stark, so these people should be used to it. A flashbulb goes off just before they part, but Tony doesn’t care and neither does Loki. They tangle their fingers together as they walk back to the tower, Tony grinning like he’s the luckiest bastard in the world, and Loki radiating smugness like a cat that’s gotten the cream.

****

Rogers’ dinner starts off as a rather quiet affair. Loki and Tony are the last ones to arrive, and so Rogers gives them a disapproving look. Tony holds up his hands in an apologetic gesture, the effect somewhat ruined by the grin still playing around the corners of his mouth. “Sorry, Steve, walking back took a bit longer than we thought it would.” Loki smirks. Of course it did. His idiot of a fiancé had been unable to walk very far without pulling Loki aside and peppering him with kisses at regular intervals. Loki’s smirk turns into something softer as he runs his finger over his ring. Romanov turns her sharp gaze on him and he straightens his expression, but she notices the ring almost immediately. A quick flick of her eyes is all she needs to ascertain that Tony is wearing one as well before she settles her gaze on Loki again. The god smiles, barely a twitch of his lips, and holds a finger up to his mouth, with his left hand of course. Her eyes crinkle at the corners, and smug amusement rolls off of her in waves, as if she had known all along and had only been waiting for confirmation. Knowing Romanov, she probably has.

Barton notices this unusual camaraderie between them, and his eyes narrow suspiciously. “The fuck?”

“You look like you’re in a good mood,” Romanov says, ignoring Barton’s remark but settling a gentle hand on his arm.”

“I find that I must agree, little spider.”

Romanov huffs a laugh, giving Tony a look, who frowns back at her in mock anger. “You’re no fun. One day, I swear Nat, I am going to surprise you.”

“You can try,” she responds haughtily, “but you wouldn’t know subtle if it came up and bit you on the ass.”

Loki snickers as he and Tony sit down. “He knows me quite well, actually.”

Thor coughs, spluttering slightly as a poorly timed gulp of water decides to make for his lungs rather than his stomach, and Loki’s good mood only increases.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Barton asks, glaring. He turns to Romanov. “Nat, what’s going on?”

“Don’t ask me,” she says primly, “it’ll ruin the surprise.”

“What surprise do you speak of?” Thor asks, sounding more than slightly reluctant to hear the answer. Recovered from his choking fit, he seems unable to take his eyes away from the trickster’s face, and though it irks him, Loki makes no move to divert it, settling for concealing his happiness from the oaf.

“Why is everyone talking about surprises?” Rogers asks in a distracted voice. He is carrying a platter of food from the kitchen and is presently more concerned with arriving at the table without spilling than the current topic of conversation. Banner looks very interested in his water glass, but is still holding careful observation of the rest of the room.

“What’s for dinner, mom?” Tony quips, changing the subject and keeping his friends guessing.

“Roast beef and mashed potatoes,” Rogers answers with a frown, finally having picked up on the current atmosphere in the room. “What surprise is Tasha talking about?” He pauses just beyond the table, the platter still in his hands and waiting expectantly. Loki thinks he should put it down first, but he refrains from voicing his suggestion.

“Well you see,” Tony says with no small amount of smugness, “I asked Loki to marry me, and he said yes.” More than a hint of pride worms its way into Tony’s voice, and Loki has to resist the urge to shake his head, instead turning his attentions to the reactions now racing through the room. The one that requires his immediate attention is Rogers’. The man’s mouth falls open, as do his fingers, and the platter begins to fall. Loki lazily flicks out a spell and catches it, depositing the dish safely on the table without spilling a single drop of juice before turning his attentions back to the rest of the room.

He and Romanov share a glance, enjoying the chaos spreading around the room. Rogers and Thor are wearing identical expressions of extreme shock, and they both look like fish that have been abruptly stolen from the water. As their mouths flop agape, Barton’s looks as if it has been pressed together and glued in place while his eyes bulge out quite unattractively. In combination with the others, his face is priceless. Banner is still studying his water glass, but the corners of his mouth are slightly turned up, and he keeps sneaking glances at Thor.

Rogers is the first to recover his voice. “Marriage? You’re sure?” He sounds profoundly shocked, and a snicker bubbles up in Loki’s throat, one that he has to work to suppress. Tony nods enthusiastically and manages to portray smug happiness, an emotion many of them had begun to associate with an especially pleasing success in the lab. “Huh, well, that’s…” Rogers seems lost for words for a moment, before a fierce spark goes off in his eyes. “That’s actually amazing. I didn’t know men could do that. Congratulations!” Rogers looks to be half in awe of the idea of marriage between men, and half in awe that those men are Tony and Loki. The god must admit, privately, that he had never thought he would walk down this road again. For the first time since Loki was Liam, Rogers looks at him without malice and without suspicion. He extends a hand. “Welcome to the family.”

Loki takes the offered hand with an air of bemusement, pleased but unsurprised to find that Rogers’ grip is firm. A handshake tells much about a person. “An odd family, to be sure.”

Rogers shrugs. “We take what we can get.” He smiles, slightly, and then returns to the kitchen, presumably to retrieve more food.

With Rogers’ absence comes an uncomfortable silence, during which Barton continues to look as if he has been force-fed a lemon, and Thor begins to look thoughtful. It is not a look Loki appreciates, and is in fact a look he has learned to dread. “Bro-Loki, it gladdens me that you have found happiness.” He turns to Tony. “My friend, I expect you will treat him well.”

“You know I will, point break.” Loki scoffs at the words, settling himself more comfortably in his seat. Of all the people in the room, Loki is obviously the one the needs the least care.

Thor turns back to him with something approaching a happy expression. “Mother and father would be pleased.”

Loki frowns, his lip curling up in disdain. His mouth suddenly tastes bitter. “Mother, perhaps, would find some pleasure in the news, though I am sure your father would be more pleased were I to be reported dead.”

Thor sits back, eyes narrowed and mouth set in a firm line. “I refuse to believe that.”

“And that is why you are a fool,” Loki spits, whatever comfortable atmosphere that was in the room suddenly gone. The air seems to grow colder in accordance with Loki’s gaze. “The only reason I am alive is because I refused to be broken and because I escaped when I did. Another week of Odin’s _hospitality_ and I would have departed to greet my daughter at her gates.”

“So that one’s true?” Tony whispers curiously, unable to keep himself silent despite the tension rolling from the gods.

“Partially,” Loki responds, equally as quiet. “I will tell you about it later,” he murmurs, before he turns back to Thor. “Surely you did not think I would be so eager to leave Asgard and its protection unless it was absolutely necessary?”

Thor pauses for a second, his angered reply hovering on his tongue, before something akin to realization dawns on his face. “You speak the truth.”

“Yes,” Loki agrees, voice mocking.

Thor’s face settles into a determined expression. “Are you sure that you do not speak the truth as it appears to yourself?”

Loki looks away, jaw twitching as he attempts to wipe the emotion from his face. He is not nearly so successful with his voice, nor the harsh laugh that escapes the confines of his lips. “I am sure, for the Allfather told me so. He meant me to die in that prison.” Loki’s words are met with silence. He meets Thor’s eyes once again, and sees that whatever bit of hope he had been holding has been brutally destroyed, the man he looked up to for all his life proved to be a monster. _More of a monster than me,_ Loki thinks with a sort of hollow smugness. He has an irrational urge to comfort Thor, most likely something left over from the years they had shared, but he does not act on this urge. Thor needs to see clearly, and for than his illusions have to shatter. For today, however, Loki decides that they have been shattered enough. “Enough of this, it is done. We are ruining the meal.” Thor looks as if he is about to protest, and so Loki holds up a hand to stop him. “Enough of this, I said. We can speak again on the morrow.”

Thor’s shoulders slump a fraction. “Very well, but I will hold you to it.”

Loki inclines his head. “I am well aware.”

Another bought of silence follows, during which Loki takes the opportunity to compose himself and examine the table. Along with several roasts and a frankly alarming amount of potatoes, there are also roasted carrots and Brussels sprouts, and a small bowl of fresh salad. Loki knows with absolute certainty that the last few dishes will never find their way into Tony’s plate. Besides that knowledge, he is impressed despite himself. He turns to Rogers. “Did you cook all of this yourself?” His appreciation is clear in his voice, and just like that, the tension is gone, allowing the others to relax into their chairs.

“Yeah, I used my mom’s old recipe. Or what I remember of it.” Conversation turns to talk of food and recipes, of which Loki is knowledgeable and the others are appreciative. Rogers is especially enthusiastic, and so Loki sets to work in making an ally of the man. Tony does not speak much throughout the meal, an odd occurrence, but his hand rarely strays from Loki’s, so the god assumes he approves.

After each and every plate is scraped clean—even the vegetables, which is pretty shocking, Steve finally brings up the subject that Tony’s been waiting for. “So, your wedding, is it going to be a big thing?”

Tony thinks about it for a second, but then shakes his head. “Probably not.”

Steve gives him an odd look. “Why not?”

“Because I want to marry Loki, not one of his illusions.” Steve nods as if this is a perfectly acceptable reason, which it is, but Clint makes a face, one of his first for the evening.

“That’s disgustingly sentimental.” It’s the first thing he’s said all night. “You’re going soft, Romeo.”

Tony snorts. “As if, Legolas. I’m enjoying my life to the fullest.”

“You’re getting married. You haven’t been out to a bar in months. Tomorrow you’re flying to Malibu to meet with the department heads instead of goofing off somewhere and leaving all the work to someone else. You’re totally settling down,” Clint accuses, his voice hovering between sarcasm and pity.

“I’m marrying a _god,_ bars are lame, and I’m only going to Malibu to salvage my working relationship with Pepper _so I can goof off_. I’m living it up, Barton!”

“Sure,” Clint smirks. “Whatever you say, Tony. Next time we blink you’ll have a kid and a minivan.”

“Not possible,” Tony scoffs. “As if I would ever drive a minivan. Gross, Clint.” Loki stands abruptly, making Tony flinch as a wall slams up in the god’s mind faster than he can blink. “Lo?” His voice is filled with confused uncertainty, something the others rarely hear and immediately ruining the easy atmosphere that they’d finally managed to achieve.

“Please excuse me.” Loki walks off into the kitchen, waving his hand almost as an afterthought and making the dishes soar up off the table to follow him. As far as excuses go, it’s pretty flimsy, so Tony wastes no time in going after him.

Barely a couple seconds pass before Tony steps into the kitchen, but it’s already spotless, the last dish flying into place in its cupboard. “You okay, Lo?”

Loki gives him an unreadable look and then gestures around the kitchen. “It benefits me to have Rogers as an ally. If I had waited any longer he would have insisted on doing this himself.” It’s the truth, Tony can feel that at least, but it’s not the truth Tony’s looking for, and Loki knows it. Even around the carefully constructed walls in Loki’s mind, Tony can taste the evasion.

So he changes tactics. “Are you healthy?”

Loki looks confused. “Yes.”

“Are you safe?”

“As much as ever.”

“Am I safe?”

Loki’s brows scrunch together. Tony’s completely lost him. “Yes?”

“Awesome. You’ll tell me if any of that changes?”

Comprehension dawns on Loki’s features. He steps forward and wraps his hands around Tony’s waste. “Yes, absolutely.” He sounds grateful, and as he tucks his head into the crook of Tony’s neck, the got lets out a relieved sigh. Tony gives his hair a slight tug, and when Loki raises his head he presses a kiss to the god’s lips.

“Great. I think Steve’s going to be really happy that you did the dishes.”

“That was my intent,” Loki responds dryly.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Steve says from the doorway. “You two okay?”

Tony gives Loki a measured look. They’re sort of okay. “Yeah, we’re good. What’ve you got for desert?”

“You’re honestly still hungry? You’re going to need a bigger suit if you keep eating like this,” Steve says with mock severity as he pulls an absolutely mouthwatering looking apple pie from the oven.

Tony inhales appreciatively, ignoring the jibe. They both know he doesn’t eat regularly enough for that to happen. “Ah, the American classic.”

“Asgardian too,” Loki adds in, eyeing the pie hungrily.

Steve finds this news shocking. “You have pie on Asgard?”

“Of course we do,” Loki scoffs. “We have a number of different pastries and deserts.”

“Huh. You learn something new every day,” Steve replies, shaking his head at his own lack of information. Then he ushers Loki and Tony back to the table, a steaming pie in each hand. Thor eats half of one by himself, and Loki eats most of the other half, to almost everyone’s surprise. Tony saw it coming, what with apples and sweet things being Loki’s preferred food it’s a no brainer that he’d love pie. Steve looks absolutely delighted when Loki tells him that the pie tastes almost as good as his mother’s. Thor looks shocked for a second before he thoughtfully agrees.

He’s been doing that a lot tonight, thinking. Tony thinks it looks like it hurts.

Steve doesn’t let Loki clean the desert dishes, even though he knows Loki can have everything done with a single wave of his hand. He says it’s the principle of the thing, so Loki accepts with a shrug. He didn’t really want to do it anyways.

Tony says good night and goodbye to his friends—he’s leaving in the morning—and tries not to laugh at the gagging sounds Clint makes behind his back as he and Loki head to the elevator. He sort of succeeds.

“Barton’s mood seems to have improved,” Loki remarks, looking as if he doesn’t trust it to continue.

“Yeah, well that’s just how Clint is,” Tony shrugs. “He probably came to terms with it when he saw Coulson alive.”

Loki looks unconvinced. “I doubt it.” The rest of the elevator ride is quiet.

Once they get back to their room, Loki turns to Tony with a half-smirk. “I hope you are not planning on rising early?”

Tony snorts. “No way in hell. Why, what have you got in mind?”

“Oh, this and that,” Loki answers vaguely, the light in his eyes betraying the casual disinterest in the words. Tony spots it and grins, so Loki drops the act. “I am going to have to entertain myself for an entire week while you are gone.” Loki steps forward and places his hands on Tony’s chest, dragging them down slowly until his fingers catch on the waistband of Tony’s jeans. “Why not give me something to think about while I am alone at night?”

Tony smirks, opening his mind so Loki can feel exactly what he thinks about that idea. “Do your worst, Reindeer Games.”

“As you wish, Stark.” The words come out as a growl, accompanied with a feral grin. Tony’s absolutely positive he’s never heard anything sound so threatening yet so arousing in all his life. But then, that’s just the effect Loki has on him, and it’s fucking amazing. A devilish grin is the only warning Tony gets before Loki is on his knees in front of him, undoing the button and pulling down the zipper with a snap of his fingers. Tony’s underpants slip down seemingly of their own will, and the engineer has to suppress a shiver. It’s different like this, Loki using his magic to undress him. Usually he just vanishes the clothes altogether. This is somehow more intimate, like Tony’s putting on a show, and all the more enjoyable for it. Tony’s thinking ceases all together when Loki’s mouth closes around him.

He has enough presence of mind to warn Loki when he’s getting close, and that’s when the god pulls off him with an obscene pop. He wastes no time in pulling Tony towards the bed, falling backwards on it and arranging them so that Tony’s straddling the god’s hips, and his erection is pressing against Tony’s ass. Smirking, Tony presses down on it, relishing in the groan he gets in response. He leans down to kiss Loki, rutting up against him all the while, and fuck, they’re both still mostly clothes, but Tony’s dick is hanging out and the whole thing is deliciously dirty.  Eventually, though, Loki wants more, but Tony reaches out and pins the god’s hands above his head, delighted when Loki actually lets him. He makes quick work of his own clothes, but goes tortuously slow with Loki’s, making sure to drag his nails over every inch of skin he can reach, sucking and biting the bits he knows will make Loki _writhe._

As soon as he has divested Loki of his pants, Tony feels the press of slick fingers, even though he still has a firm grip on the god’s hands. He shudders. _Fucking magic._ Loki seems on returning the torture tenfold, so by the time he finally withdraws them, Tony is a quivering mess. Loki is supporting his weight now, and he lifts Tony up and slowly lowers him onto him. Tony groans as he settles flush against Loki, unable to break eye-contact with the god. He’s already half gone and Loki knows it. The god barely gives Tony time to adjust before he lifts him and slams his hips up, hissing out a moan from all the shared sensations. His movements are wild and fast, and the sounds pouring from the both of them as a result are sinful.

There’s a certain edge of desperation to their movements, to the point where Tony would be concerned if he was in command of his higher functions. As it is, he wants Loki to do more, grip him harder and leave bruises, wants him to mark him. They’re going to be separated for days, and Tony wants to wear Loki’s marks the entire time.

As if hearing the thought, Loki groans and sits up to suck a bruise onto Tony’s neck in a place that would be impossible to hide. Judging by the way Tony’s projecting into his mind, it’s probably possible that Loki can hear him. Tony experiments, directing him and sending suggestions, bringing Loki’s mind even closer, and groaning when Loki responds to it with a delighted gasp. When they have the time, Tony loves intertwining theirs minds like this, so that they can’t tell themselves apart.  

Then Tony feels the heat building to an almost unbearable level, and he tenses in anticipation just as Loki inhales sharply. They come together, their orgasm ripping through them with double the force and leaving their minds blissfully blank as their bodies sink into powerful pleasure. Tony, unable to support his weight any longer, collapses on top of Loki. For a long while they both lie there in a sort of warm afterglow that doesn’t allow movement, until Loki shifts Tony off of him and settles him on the bed half lying over Loki’s chest, which he knows is  Tony’s favorite place to be.

Today, Loki places Tony’s hand over his stomach, fingers splayed. Their minds are currently far to intertwined for any sort of wall, so Tony can feel Loki’s bittersweet satisfaction at the contact. He would ask, he knows Loki can feel the questioning thought, but his eyes are already sliding closed. Instead, he spreads the warmth of Loki’s satisfaction and shares in it, unsure of what he’s doing but enjoying the feeling all the same.


	4. Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry it's a day late, but this week's chapter is longer than usual, so hopefully that makes up for it :)  
> Thanks again for the lovely comments, and I hope you enjoy it!

The next morning comes far too quickly for Tony’s taste. “Sir, if you do not get up immediately you will be late.”  Usually the sound of Jarvis’ crisp voice would be enough to get Tony out of bed, but today he just groans and snuggles closer to Loki’s side. He knows he needs to go to Malibu, and that he _really_ needs to be on time, but he just doesn’t want to move. Tony manages another minute or two of clinging to sleep before Loki pokes him in the side.

“Alright, you have slept long enough. These meetings are important, you said so yourself.” He pauses, and then Tony hears a grin. “Unless you lied to me?”

“Yes, they’re important,” Tony grumbles into Loki’s side, knowing he’s already lost the battle but clinging anyways.

“Then get up before Jarvis sends for Rogers.” Loki sounds way too amused, so Tony redoubles his efforts.

“He wouldn’t.”

“I am afraid I would, sir. Happy reports that he has successfully arrived at your lodgings with your clothes.”

Tony groans again. “Shit. I told him I would beat him there!” Then comes a resigned sigh. “Okay, how much time do I have?”

“Leaving within the next ten minutes would be advisable.”

“That’s not even enough to shower!” Tony complains as he sits up, glaring at the room at large.

Loki chuckles and runs his fingers through Tony’s hair. “Allow me.” Tony shivers as Loki’s magic flows over him, making him cleaner than any shower could hope to achieve. Fuck he loves magic.

“Eight minutes, sir,” Jarvis reminds him when Tony shows no intention of moving.

“What, is this a fucking countdown?” Tony grumbles. Loki doesn’t say anything to that, and so he makes a frustrated noise and throws off the covers, climbs out of bed and stomps over to the closet, all the while feeling the echo of Loki’s amusement in the back of his mind. He emerges a couple minutes later with a huff, straitening the lapels of an elegant charcoal suit.

Loki eyes him mischievously. “Are you going to kiss your fiancé goodbye?” He asks playfully.

“Only if you get out of the bed. If I go over there I’ll never leave.”

Loki smirks and rises from the bed in all his naked glory, sauntering over to Tony and wrapping his arms around Tony’s neck. “Is this better?” He purrs, leaning in to press kisses all along Tony’s jaw.

“You little shit,” Tony breathes, burying his nose in Loki’s hair and wrapping his arms around the god. “I have to go.”

“So go,” Loki whispers directly into Tony’s ear. “Leave me here, naked and eager.”

Tony nearly groans. “You little shit.” His repetition makes Loki laugh.

“Sir, if you do not leave immediately, you will be late.”

Sighing, Loki steps back from Tony after pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Go on, or that woman will be even more difficult.”

Tony winces just thinking about it. “Yeah, she will.” He steps back and flicks his wrist. The pieces of the suit come flying, assembling on him. He tosses a final grin at Loki before the face piece snaps into place. “I’ll see you in five days, Lo.”

“Safe travels.” Loki waves as a section of the windows slide open and Tony takes off.

The flight to Malibu is uneventful. A tailwind picks up about halfway through and sticks with him, so Tony arrives at the hotel with time to spare. It feels so strange to be staying in a hotel, but after the mansion was destroyed, Tony never got around to fixing it. His permanent residence is in New York now anyways, so a hotel will have to do. Except he can’t be his usual level of crazy in a hotel because he’s pretty much constantly under the eye of the public. Which sucks. And then after all the shitty meetings and sucky dealings, Tony gets to go over to the hotel to sleep alone. Which also sucks. He just got here and he already wants this week to be over.

Checking the time, Tony bypasses the hotel and flies straight to the office buildings where the first meetings will be. He lands in one of the parking lots in the back, because he knows Pepper will blow a fuse if he causes a commotion out front. A few seconds is all it takes for the suit to fold down into a briefcase, and then Tony straightens his suit, picks it up, and goes inside. He’s a bit early, but it suits his purposes. Strolling into the main lobby, he catches sight of Pepper walking towards the elevators, so he picks up his pace and manages to slide into the same one. Thankfully, the elevator cab is empty except for the two of them.

“Mr. Stark,” she greets him formally, inclining her head.

Tony sighs, slumping against the wall a bit. It’s going to be a long week. “Okay, listen Pep, you’re mad at me for something. We both know that I don’t know why, and we both know that unless you tell me why I’ll never figure it out. If you don’t want to tell me, fine, I’ll let you have that, but right now, I need you to be my assistant and I need us to look like we always have, because these guys are going to try and get the jump on us and they’ll take advantage of any weakness we show.”

Pepper’s formal disinterest sort of morphs into a slightly more sour expression. “And how do you know that?”

“I know that because that’s what you always tell me when we meet with these guys. Pep, I trust your judgment one hundred percent, but I need to know you have my back.” Pepper give him a look. “In a business setting,” he amends.

Pepper’s shoulder sag a bit before she straightens again. “No, you’re right, I’ve been unprofessional. So for these meetings I will be Miss Potts and you will be Mr. Stark. No ‘Tony’ and no ‘Pepper’. Just professional.” She extends a hand and Tony shakes it gratefully.

“Thank you. But at the end of these meetings, we’re going to have a talk, not professionally.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I don’t care. You’ve been one of the most important people in my life long before you became my girlfriend. You’re upset, probably because I fucked something up, and I want to do what I can to try and fix it. When you left you said we’d go back to the way we were. Unless you don’t want that anymore, I’d like to give it a go.”

Pepper sighs and closes her eyes. “Okay. But I don’t a word about it until the meetings are over.”

“If that’s what you wants,” Tony says, trying not to let his surprise show. He thought she’d say no.

Pepper nods, and then opens her briefcase to pull out some papers. “Now, here’s what we want to achieve in this particular meeting, and also what we want in the long run. And this,” she directs his attention to another piece of paper, “is what they want to achieve. Some of our points overlap, so we should focus on those first.” Tony nods along to her breakdown of the meeting, commenting where he needs to but otherwise agreeing to most of what Pepper is saying. She knows exactly what he wants and has already seen to most of it.

Conversation between them is stilted and formal, awkward because of what they don’t say. They only talk about business, and when that topic is thoroughly covered, a thick silence settles over them. Tony finds himself missing Loki immensely, and it’s only been a couple of hours. Halfway through the first meeting, Tony catches himself running a finger over his ring. He straightens quickly, flicking a glance around the room to see if anyone noticed. He thinks one guy might’ve, but they all have poker faces that would’ve impressed Natasha so it’s kind of hard to tell. They don’t break for lunch but have it brought to the conference room instead. Each party is very insistent on their demands, so the meeting continues well into the evening and achieves nothing. They will have to continue the next morning, and needless to say, Tony is not happy about that in the least.

Pepper can tell by the way Tony starts to finish that he’s nearing the end of his rope, and she gracefully calls the meeting to a temporary end. A half hour of hand shaking and meaningless pleasantries later, Tony is finally free. He agrees to meet Pepper at nine the next morning, an hour before the meeting is actually set to start, and takes off to meet Happy at the front entrance like a bat out of hell. There’s an unusually high amount of paparazzi hanging around the entrance, which confuses Tony until they start yelling questions about whether or not the rumors of his engagement are true. Tony just smiles and shoulders his way to the car, making sure his left hand is completely visible, but doesn’t answer any of their questions, mindful of how angry Pepper would be if he truly started something now. Besides, he wants to tell her in person.

Once he finally slides into the safety of the car, he nearly jumps out of his skin. “It’s a sad, sad world when you’re best friend comes home to Malibu and doesn’t tell you.”

A huge smile spreads across Tony’s face. “Rhodey! Holy fuck, I could say the same! I thought you were in Afghanistan! And home is New York right now.” Tony reaches over and claps a hand on Rhodey’s shoulder, incredibly happy to see his friend.

“I was, but I’ve got a couple days off so I came home for a bit. I hope you’re hungry because we’re going to get dinner.”

“Let me guess, my treat?”

“Of course.”

Tony grins. Damn, he’s missed Rhodey. “Alright, let’s go.” Happy drives them to a restaurant that they used to frequent when they were both in Malibu. They talk about general things, Avengers business and army stuff mostly, until they’re settled in the restaurant, just catching up. Once their meals are ordered and Rhodey’s nursing a beer—Tony got water because he’s proving a point to Steve whether or not Steve is there to see it—conversation turns to a more personal topic.

“According to the rumor mill, you’re set to tie the knot.” Rhodey says it like a joke, and Tony lets him have his fun, already savoring the expression he’s going to have on his face when Tony corrects him. “These people get pretty creative, don’t they?”

“Oh yeah,” Tony agrees, having a little bit of fun himself. “Remember that time they convinced themselves we were sleeping together?”

Rhodey barks a laugh. “Jesus, how could I forget? That was awful, my unit still makes jokes about it.”

“I know, what were they thinking? You’re totally not my type.”

“Gee, thanks for the compliment. So how’d this one get started? Did Natasha force you to buy her earrings or something?”

Tony grins. “Nah, this one probably got started when my fiancé and I went shopping for rings.”

Rhodey chokes on his beer, eyes wide as saucers as Tony holds up his hand and wiggles his ring finger around. As he predicted, the expression is gold. “It’s true!?”

“Yup.”

Rhodey looks completely nonplussed. “Well I’ll be dammed. How the hell did that happen? Did you knock her up or something?”

Tony makes a face and shakes his head. “As if I’d be that stupid. And I’m marrying him because I want to, not because I have to.”

“Him?” Tony nods. “Huh. I knew you brought home guys every now and then, but I figured you mostly liked women.”

Tony shrugs. “I don’t really see that much of a distinction.”

“Oh. That makes sense. So how’d you convince the poor bastard to take you? And do I get a name?”

Tony grins. “By being my bad-ass self, of course. And you know him. Indirectly. Well, you know _of_ him.”

“Tone, you’re freaking me out. Who is it?”

His grin widens. “Okay, so you remember that alien invasion we had a while back?”

“Vaguely. It rings a bell.” Rhodey’s tone is all dry sarcasm. “Was it one of the firemen? A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent?”

Tony makes a face. “Don’t insult me. Remember the guy with all the leather and the shiny gold horns?”

Rhodey, who had been drinking his beer once again, starts coughing and choking on the liquid. He’s really having bad luck with drinks tonight. Tony decides that it’s not the worst reaction he could have had. “Loki?” Rhodey manages to get out in between coughs. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope, sorry not sorry.”

“Isn’t he supposed to be in prison? Didn’t he try to kill you?” Rhodey’s eyes narrow in confusion and a healthy dose of suspicion. “How did that even happen?”

“It’s a long story…” Tony doesn’t really want to go into it now, but Rhodey’s not going to just take his word and continue on his way.

“I’ve got time.” Which is what Tony figured he was going to say. He takes a quick sip of water to wet his throat and then launches into telling the story. He tells Rhodey everything from how their casual arrangement turned into something more and the sense of connection he feels with Loki. The bond is a topic he leaves for another day. By the time he’s finished, the food is long gone, and he and Rhodey are both leaning over some after-dinner coffees.

Wiping a hand over his face, Rhodey sits back, looking as if he has the mother of all headaches. “Jesus, Tone. Leave it to you to find the most dangerous things and then have sex with them. Are you sure he’s okay?”

“Absolutely,” Tony says confidently, ignoring the jibe. “I’ve got Steve’s grudging approval and Nat likes him.”

Rhodey exhales slowly. “So this wedding of yours, when’s it going to be?”

“I don’t know yet, we haven’t really planned that far, but it’s definitely going to be small.”

“How small?”

“Probably just me, Lo, and whoever else decides to come.”

Rhodey crosses his arms, thinking for a bit. “Count me in.”

“What?”

“I said count me in. I’m going to be there when you get married, so when you decide on the date let me know.”

Tony smiles then. It’s big and grateful, way too sincere, but he doesn’t care at the moment. “Sure thing.” After dinner they part ways, but not before they make plans to meet again tomorrow.

The rest of the week follows in a similar pattern. Tony goes through hell and back in the meetings, and then he meets up with Rhodey for food. Every night after dinner, once he’s back at the hotel, he puts in a call to the tower, to talk to Loki. They don’t say much, they can still feel each other through the bond after all, but Tony can tell as the days wear on that Loki is feeling apprehensive about something. Tony’s doesn’t ask, but Loki knows he’s aware of it.

On the last day, the meeting finally goes smoothly. Tony and Pepper have to make a couple capitulations, but everyone generally seems satisfied with the final outcome. Because of this, they are able to end the meeting sometime around noon, hours ahead of the original schedule.

As usual, vigorous handshaking follows, as well as a couple invitations for lunch, which Tony politely refuses, saying he already has plans. One of the representatives from the meeting spots Tony’s ring and offers his congratulations, which Tony politely accepts and then steers the conversation away from that particular subject, happy that Pepper was on the other side of the room.

What seems like an eternity later, the last department head and worker representative leaves the conference room, and Tony is left alone with Pepper. She walks over and closes the door before turning to Tony with crossed arms. “I heard you’re engaged. Is it true?” There’s no inflection in her voice, which automatically makes Tony nervous.

“Yes,” he answers hesitantly, unsure how to proceed.

“To who?”

There’s really no way Tony can beat around the bush wither Pepper like he did with Rhodey, so he just says “Loki.”

Pepper’s eyes go wide. “Loki? The homicidal maniac that invaded New York and threw you out of a window!?” Her voice is shrill and she’s yelling.

Tony winces. “Yes, him, but he was sort of under mind control at the time and he’s honestly amazing.” She looks like she’s ready to go on a tirade. “I love him, Pep,” Tony adds on quietly, stopping whatever she was about to say.

“I see.” She presses her lips together, looking thoroughly upset about the whole thing. “The others know?” Meaning, _does Natasha approve._ She always trusted Nat’s word over Tony’s.

“Yes.”

She nods, seemingly to herself, and then changes the subject. “What did you want to talk about?”

Really not wanting to linger, Tony jumps right into it. “What did I do to make you so upset?” Which was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Pepper’s eyes immediately fill with tears.

“What did you do?” She laughs wetly. “You shined, Tony. You shined so brightly, and for a while, I stood with you in that light. But you just kept getting brighter and brighter. You didn’t live for me or for you, but for every person you thought needed your help. You risked your life without a thought for yourself or what it would do to me, and when I thought that, I felt so ugly inside. You saved millions of people, and I hated you for it. Your light started to hurt, Tony. I didn’t want that ugliness to show, and being with you like that, it burned. And the worst of it was, you didn’t even look like you cared about me. You destroyed your suits for me, but you were listless the whole time, restless in a way I’ve never seen before, and then a couple months after I left, there you were, flying through the skies. You never told me you loved me, the suits were always more important, and now you’re engaged? Did I really mean so little to you?”

Tony is horrified at the thought of Pepper meaning nothing to anybody. “No, Jesus, Pep! You were my whole life!”

“And then I wasn’t,” she says sadly. “Suddenly I just wasn’t anymore, and I was burning, and you never noticed. I thought I had caught myself a star, and you turned out to be a sun. You hurt, Tony, but you never stopped to notice all the pain around you. All you wanted to do was shine.”

“Pep, I never meant to do that! I just wanted to be better, for you, for me, for everyone!” Fuck, but Tony feels awful. Is this how he appears to people? Blinding, burning, painful?

“The fact that you never meant to only makes it worse,” she says softly. “I miss the easy relationship we had before any of this started, and I do want to go back.” She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “It will take time to get like that again. Will you give me that time?”

“Yes, god yes. Whatever you need, Pep. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Pepper is silent for a second, eyes searching Tony’s face. Somewhat hysterically, Tony thinks he’s probably shining again and does his best to suppress it. He doesn’t exactly know how, or what his shining looks like, but he does his best anyways.

Pepper sighs again. “No, I’m sorry. You can’t help how you are, and I’m the one who couldn’t deal with it.” Pepper’s words only make him feel worse. An awful feeling has settled low in Tony’s gut, and he blocks it the minute he feels a hint of alarm from Loki. “I’ll be in New York next week, we’ll go over the paperwork then. Congratulations on your engagement Tony.” She pauses and swallows. “Goodbye, Mr. Stark.” She rushes from the room, and Tony feels no better than before. In fact, he feels very sick. Had he really hurt Pepper so much just by being himself?

“Goodbye, Miss Potts,” he whispers quietly into the empty room.

Suddenly Tony doesn’t want to be around anyone. He sends a quick text to Rhodey, cancelling tonight’s plans, and another to Happy, telling him to pack up and head back to New York. Then he suits up and flies home at a very sedated pace, using the time to think.

Shining, huh?

The worst part about the whole situation is that there’s absolutely nothing Tony can do to change it. Just thinking about stopping his Avengers work makes him sick to his stomach. He feels even worse when he thinks that he really only helps people because he can. Not because he feels responsible for them, not because he wants to atone for his past, but because he can, so he does. He’s in a position to help them, so he does. No higher purpose, no noble thoughts, nothing. That’s just really shitty of him. Steve probably has a great noble reason, Tasha has a tragic backstory that spurs her actions, but Tony does it because he can, just like every other thing he does in his life, and just being like that made Pepper feel hurt. The guilt spreads, and along with the guilt comes misery, because why the fuck not, and by the time he gets back to New York he’s stewing in awful feelings.

Loki is out when he gets back, and Tony is grateful for that. He wants to be alone for a while. Halfway down to the lab, a new thought crosses Tony’s mind. What if he’s doing the same thing to Loki? Or if he isn’t doing it now, who says he’s not going to do it later? Loki doesn’t have the same luxury Pepper did, Loki can’t leave, and Tony is going to break him. Never mind the fact that just thinking of Loki leaving causes actual physical pain.

Once he’s in his lab, Tony goes straight for the abandoned corner and unearths a bottle of scotch. Proving himself to Steve takes a backseat to his misery.

****

Loki eyes Romanov over the rim of his coffee cup. “You need not study me so intently, little spider. I won’t tell you, and you will not be able to guess.”

She sighs, setting down her own cup and running her finger over the rim. “You’re good, I’ll give you that. I only know something’s up because I was there. Why do you call me ‘little spider’?”

“It is my experience that small and seemingly harmless things are often the most dangerous and should be treated with respect.” He says the words with a small smirk, making them both teasing and sincere.

A small smile graces her features and she leans back in her chair with an air of smugness. “Oh, so you like me, eh?”

Loki grins and lifts his cup in a toast. “I find pleasure in your company.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” They finish their drinks together in companionable silence before leaving the coffee shop. Armed with a couple of Tony’s credit cards, the two set out on a shopping trip, Loki because he couldn’t stay inside any longer and Romanov because he asked her to accompany him. Wandering the streets of New York, Loki has found, is rarely enjoyable alone. “Do you want to make a bet?”

Loki looks away from the shop window he’s been examining, focusing his attention on Romanov once more. “A bet? Of what sort?”

“I’m going to guess what’s up with you, and you answer yes or no.”

Loki raises an eyebrow and looks at her sidelong. “That is not a bet.”

“Fine, a game of twenty questions without the number limit. You in?”

“If you insist. However, I am only agreeing because I know you will not be able to guess, regardless of any answers I provide.”

She smirks, rising to the challenge. “Okay, then here’s the bet: if I manage to guess, you have to make me lunch. If I don’t you get the satisfaction of keeping your little secret.”

Loki has to laugh at that. “Very well.” Mischief glints in his eyes. “Yes or no questions only, correct?”

“If you want.” They walk for a little longer and conversation strays to other things. Just as Loki is walking into a book store, Romanov springs a question on him. “Is it an illness?”

“No.”

“Something to do with magic?”

“Yes.”

“But not harmful?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm…” She browses the shelves thoughtfully. “Is this only because of magic?”

Loki pauses before he answers, running his fingers over the spine of a book. “No,” he answers hesitantly, in part because he is not completely sure of the answer and in part because he is trying to confuse her. It doesn’t quite work, and she throws him a smirk. Shaking his head, Loki continues down the rows of books. They continue this, their game of questions, as they go shopping, spread out among friendly chatter and shopping opinions. Well, they do not chatter overmuch, as neither Loki nor Romanov are ones for meaningless pleasantries.

The day is going quite pleasantly until a horribly sick feeling filters through the bond. Worry immediately builds in Loki’s mind, and he snaps his head around to stare in the direction he knows Tony to be, regardless of the fact that that direction has him looking at a wall. Almost before his alarm can fully register in his own mind, Tony blinks out of existence. Fighting the waves of rising panic, Loki searches his mind for Tony, and exhales in shaky relief. He is still there, but Loki can barely feel him. Tony must be blocking Loki from his mind like the god has tried to do, but his guards are far superior to anything Loki has ever been able to muster.

Immediately Loki’s worry doubles and curiosity rears its head, making for an uncomfortable combination of emotions, but Tony is still in Malibu, so there’s nothing Loki can do at present. He cannot even teleport to the Tony, the idiot human’s block is interfering with the details Loki would need to do that.

“Is Tony okay?” Loki exhales slowly, regaining his composure as Romanov waits patiently for her answer.

“He is uninjured.” A dark look passes over Loki’s face. “I assume he is speaking to that woman.”

Romanov nods in understanding, taking on a dark look of her own. “He’s burying himself in blame and guilt, isn’t he?”

“Unfortunately, as far as I can tell,” Loki agrees sourly. “He’s blocking me.”

“He can do that?”

“Yes, as can I, though Tony’s mental skills are absurdly greater than mine. He apparently has natural aptitude.” Loki says the last part bitterly, glaring at the sweater in front of him. He does not mind that Tony’s skill is greater than his own, but he does mind when that skill is turned on him.

“And you hate being blocked?” Romanov surmises, as sharp as ever.

“Yes.” If the word comes out grudgingly, Loki chooses to ignore it.

“So why block him?”

“That is not a yes or no question.”

Romanov has an uncommonly sharp gaze, and she turns the full force of it on him now. “He doesn’t know, does he? About whatever it is I’m trying to guess?”

“No,” Loki says, voice uncharacteristically quiet. “He knows as much as you do. Perhaps less.”

Romanov hums thoughtfully and passes a shirt over to the shop assistant to bring to the front. “Why aren’t you telling him?” Loki stays silent and just gives her a look, the yes or no rule hanging in the air. Romanov sighs. “Will it affect him too?”

“Yes.”

“In a life-changing kind of way?”

She is far too clever, but Loki can tell that she does not have quite the right idea. She is thinking in terms of the bond, and that suits Loki just fine. “Yes.” He makes it sound like it is an unwilling admission, and is more successful in the deception this time.

“So why don’t you tell him?” Again Loki makes no move to answer her, and she huffs. “I’m sure you can tell me without telling me, or are you not as good as you believe?”

Loki lets out a small chuckle, amused by the barely noticeable taunt. A lesser being than Loki would have fallen for it. “My, you are good, little spider.” He considers ignoring the rest of her question, but at the last second he changes his mind. It has been so long since Loki has confided in anyone, and Romanov’s insight might be valuable. “I have no idea how to tell him,” he admits softly. “The words will come easily, as they always do, but I am… apprehensive.”

“You have no idea how he’ll react.”

“ _I_ am still trying to decide how to react.”

Romanov’s eyes widen slightly. “You’re afraid of how he’ll react.”

“Always so perceptive, little spider.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

Loki rubs a hand over his face, finally allowing himself to look strained. He is allowed that luxury now, at least. “By most standards it should be an amazing thing, but the universe is rarely so kind to me.”

When he looks back at Romanov, she has a wry smile on display. “Okay, I admit that I’m confused.”

Her words wring a small laugh out of him. “I am afraid you will have to stay that way, little spider.”

“It wouldn’t be fun if you outright told me.” She pauses, thinking for a few moments. “This thing, is there a time limit?”

Frowning, Loki studies her quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“Can you hide this forever or will Tony eventually find out on his own?”

Loki swears and punches the wall, not hard enough to cause any damage, but enough that several people turn to look at him in confusion. “Damn. I had not considered that.” He runs his hand through his hair, the unusual shortness of Liam’s preferred style throwing him off for a second.

“That’s surprising.”

Loki makes a face. He has had plenty of other things to worry about. It is not surprising that this detail slipped his mind. “Enough of this. Anything more will ruin the game.”

“Sure thing,” Romanov agrees easily. Then she holds up a shirt. “What do you think of this color?” Conversation turns down a seemingly harmless road, but such things are rarely as they appear to be with Romanov. Loki enjoys the challenge to the point where he almost forgets Tony’s pseudo-absence in his mind. Almost being the key word. At some point, Loki catches himself wishing he had known a person of Romanov’s disposition in Asgard. Then he shakes his head, thinking about how sentimental his months with Tony have made him. He had thought himself shattered beyond repair, but his sharp edges are being padded and sanded into something different by sheer proximity to Tony. Loki is not sure how he feels about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. I would just like to say a few things about my approach to Pepper's character, because I have been treating her kind of badly. If anyone needs clarification, in this chapter, Pepper is talking about how Tony is too good for her, and she can't deal with her own selfishness in regards to their relationship, which is why it fell apart. I truly do love Pepper as a character, and if you do too, please don't be too upset with my treatment of her. I have plans for her, and they're pretty good if I do say so myself. Thanks for reading!


	5. When the Day has Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! We are now on chapter 5, hooray! Time seems to be passing quickly, I feel like I just started this, but it's already been more than a month! Thank you to everyone who's been reading so far! Please enjoy!

Loki knows the exact second Tony arrives at the tower, but he does not rush home. Whatever it is that bothered the human in the first place may warrant more time alone, as Tony was not due to return until later that evening. The fact that he is home now is concerning, but Loki would definitely want the time alone, so he grants Tony the same luxury. He and Romanov continue their outing, stopping at another café for lunch and then meandering back in the direction of the tower, pausing here and there to examine a shop more closely.

As the time wears on, Loki grows more and more agitated, though he is certain that he does not show it. One of the conveniences of Midgardian shopping is that there is no shortage of mirrors in which one can check their expression in. Loki looks as if he is calm, talking and laughing easily with Romanov. He cannot, however, stop himself from twisting his ring around his finger, a clear indication that Tony is in his thoughts. He allows himself this slip, however, as a more complete display of calm would arouse suspicion as well as more questions that would demand increasingly difficult answers. That and the fact that slip in itself is an indulgence that Loki allows himself.

By the time they arrive back at the tower, the sun has already began its descent. The evening air has turned crisp, and Loki cannot say he does not enjoy it. Loki parts ways with Romanov at the elevator, the assassin preferring to take the stairs and the god preferring the fastest way to his human’s whereabouts.

Jarvis informs Loki that Tony is in the lab and he sounds vaguely disgruntled about it. It sets Loki on edge. Anxiety builds in Loki’s chest as the elevator slides downwards. He is a finger’s breadth away from losing control of his breathing, which only frightens him all the more. He lost control once, and then he lost everything.

When the elevator doors slide open, Loki feels as if there is an invisible force keeping him inside the cab. Berating himself for being silly, Loki forces himself to step forward, scanning the darkened room for Tony. The clinking of glass sends him to the far corner of the room where Loki is greeted with the sight of Tony lying sprawled on the floor, a bottle with a few drops of amber liquid clutched in his hand. The scent of alcohol is heavy in the air, making Loki stop just outside of Tony’s corner. He quickly checks Tony’s spot in his mind and finds it just as well guarded as before, despite Tony’s obvious intoxication and much to Loki’s irritation.

Before Loki can say anything, Tony abruptly sits up, swaying for a second, and then concentrating his bleary gaze on Loki.  “I’m home.”

“So I see.” Loki’s displeasure is clear in his voice as well as his mind, but Tony ignores it.

“I asked her, you know, about what I did wrong.” His words are slurred, and combined with the topic of that woman, they only serve to add to Loki’s irritation.

“And?” He should be more supportive, maybe, but Tony is too drunk to care and therefore not worth the effort.

“And,” Tony says, swinging his arm around with the natural dramatics of the intoxicated, “it turns out I was just being myself.” A pained look crosses his face. “She said I shine too bright.”

Anger pulses in Loki’s head and he allows it to scorch across the bond. Tony might be hiding himself from Loki, but Loki is doing no such thing in return. The human flinches away from him and Loki allows himself a moment of satisfaction before softening the feeling, making it apparent that his anger is for that woman, not Tony. Once the anger has morphed into a comforting warmth, Loki settles on the floor cross-legged a meter away from Tony. “Your light is what I treasure about you.”

Tony shakes his head vigorously, insistently. Momentarily, Loki is at a loss. Tony’s drunken behavior is nearly impossible to decipher, the absence of his mind only increasing that difficulty. “Now you like it, but it’ll hurt you like it hurt her. Like an open flame.” For a second, Loki is struck by the similarity of this to his opinion of Tony from that day. His earlier assumption was correct. That woman was foolish and she was burned. It takes a unique individual to remain unscathed by the flames.

“Ah, but you forget that I hold the title of the god of fire. You were born for me, Tony, and I for you. Your light cannot harm me, just as my darkness cannot swallow you.”

“How do you know?” There is so much uncertainty in Tony’s voice and expression that he almost looks foreign to Loki; his usually cocky human is nowhere to be found at the moment.

“How can I not? I see your heart. If you do not trust yourself, try and trust me. Look into my mind and see for yourself.”

If anything, Tony only looks more pained. “That’s now. What about later? You’re stuck with me. You can’t leave.”

Loki’s irritation rises again. “We have already been through this! The bond does not work like that. It is operated by magic so old and so powerful that it is beyond comprehension, even my own. It would not have paired us if we were so weak as to be beaten by time. There is no need for this!” Loki gestures with disgust at the display before him.

Tony looks down at his empty bottle, seemingly wishing for another mouthful. “I thought it was necessary.”

“It was not. One meeting with that woman and suddenly everything we’ve established is destroyed? You need not concern yourself with her any longer,” Loki spits, growling the words at Tony.

The human laughs. It is a pathetic sound. “Of course I do. Did you think that because we found each other all my problems would suddenly disappear? Hey, here’s a love interest, and what? My life is supposed to magically fix itself? Sorry, Reindeer Games. It doesn’t work like that.”

Loki cannot deal with this. Tony drunk is irritating beyond belief! He goes from morose to confrontational in the blink of an eye, all the while being completely irrational! “Do you think me an idiot, Stark? Naïve? A relationship cures nothing.”

“So what’s your point?” Tony shakes his bottle angrily, sloshing around the little liquid left within it. “Why should I stop what already works so well for me? Because I’ve got a relationship?”

“No,” Loki scoffs, glaring at the bottle. “And you are an idiot for thinking that this does anything for you.” He pauses now, and fidgets. Tony is drunk, but if Loki waits to share his news any longer the shreds of courage that he has painstakingly gathered will leave him, and as pathetic as it may be, Loki fears he may never find them again.

“Why?” Tony demands. “What possible reason could there be for me to stop?”

“There may be a child,” Loki says quietly.

“Whose?” Tony asks, and the word comes out sharp, sharper than anything he has said so far.

“Mine… ours.” Loki looks at the ground as he says this, and flinches when he hears the sound of a bottle shattering on the floor, no doubt having slipped from suddenly lax fingers. The guards surrounding Tony’s mind falter, letting panic and confusion slip through.

A quick glance up shows that Tony looks as if he has been slapped. “Are you saying you’re _pregnant?_ ”

“Yes.”

The pace of Tony’s breathing picks up until he’s nearly hyperventilating. “I—what— _how?”_

Loki does not exactly have an answer. “Magic,” he supplies when nothing else is forthcoming.

“Magic?” Tony repeats. “Magic doesn’t make people pregnant, biology does!”

“You are forgetting that for me they are one and the same.” Loki’s voice is calm, but he is quickly falling into panic. He hides the emotion from Tony as best he can.

It seemingly works. “How can you be so calm about this?” A new thought seems to appear to Tony, and his eyes narrow. “How long have you had to get used to this? _Why didn’t you tell me?”_

Loki takes a deep breath, ensuring that his panic remains locked behind iron walls. Tony takes no such actions and his own emotions roil across Loki’s mind, too muddled and tinged with alcohol to make sense of in their intensity. “I have been aware of my situation for just over a week,” he answers hesitantly, ignoring the other questions. Tony goes silent, staring at Loki with a mask of indistinguishable emotions. Even drunk, Tony can keep face. Loki waits for a few seconds more, giving Tony the opportunity to speak, but the human says nothing and his mind is hidden once again. Pain wells up in Loki, and so he shutters his own mind even more forcefully, feeling desperately lonely in the face of such isolation. “I see that this is displeasing for you,” he begins, stiffly formal. “I will leave, then.” He stands, brushing imaginary dirt off his jeans as he does so. “Thank you for what you have done for me. May your life be a good one, Tony.”

Alarm shoots across Tony’s face and he lurches to his feet just as Loki turns to leave. “No! Hey, wait, no!” He stumbles, clearly unable to walk properly, and Loki catches him out of reflex. “Fucking dammit, Lo, that is not what I want!”

“Then what do you want?” Loki shoots back acidly. “I will not get rid of the child.”

“No,” Tony says, shaking his head. “No, I—fuck.” He sways on his feet, clutching Loki even harder for support. “I’m just…” he seems to struggle with himself internally for a second. “I’m just really fucking scared,” he admits in a small voice. “Don’t go anywhere, please don’t.”

There is fear and vulnerability in Tony’s voice, and Loki hates to hear it. He knows the alcohol is not helping at all, and so he offers what he can. “I know a spell that will purge the alcohol from your system.”

Tony looks at him with relief. “Please.” Loki flicks his fingers, watching as Tony flinches and shudders as the spell works through him. It is not a pleasant one, but Loki feels no sympathy for him. He is still on edge, balancing carefully between bad and worse, and Tony has yet to clarify his meaning. After the spell has run its course, Tony sags against Loki for a second before straightening up. His gaze is clear and the smell is gone, and Tony is now obviously embarrassed by his actions. “Uh, thanks. Let’s just, um,” he gestures at a couple of chairs away from the mess in the corner.

Loki walks over to one and sits gracefully, while Tony collapses into his. DUM·E rolls over and begins cleaning up the shattered bottle, stopping to chirp with obvious concern in their direction every now and again. Tony and Loki sit in silence, listening to the robot work. Tony seems to be trying to wrap his mind around the news, and then after a few minutes he turns to Loki, his expression completely stunned. “Holy fuck, a baby?”

Loki nods, keeping his face blank. “Yes.”

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“There is no question.”

Tony leans back, letting out a shaky breath. Complicated emotions rolls across his face as Loki watches in silence. Finally, Tony speaks. “Well fuck me, I’m going to be a dad.” A small amount of wonder leaks into his voice, amidst the shock and fear. Then Tony begins to slowly lower the guards around his mind. Loki does the same, taking a moment to bask in the warmth of Tony’s mind and letting his own feelings slip through. Beside Tony’s wonder and disbelief, Loki also sense fear and a crippling self-doubt.

He does his best to brush those away. “We will be able to handle whatever the child throws our way. Do not worry yourself, Tony.”

“No, but Lo, you don’t get it. You saw that just now!” He waves his hand to the corner. “I suck at everything that isn’t electronic. Babies are not made of wires. What if I fuck it up? What if the kid grows up to hate me?”

“Impossible.”

Tony gives him a look. “I think you think I’m a lot better than I am.”

“Nonsense,” Loki waves a hand dismissively. “I am well aware that you are an idiot who is much too obsessed with technology. I am also aware that you are well on your way to being in love with the child.”

“I,” Tony begins, then stops, blushing slightly. “Well, yeah, I mean, how can’t I? My very own tiny person, and if I’m lucky, a green eyed one.”

Loki smiles softly. “You will make a fine father. Besides, you have my assistance and experience. Between the two of us, the child will be well loved.”

The fear and doubt in Tony’s mind recedes somewhat, leaving a bit of awe behind. He takes Loki’s hand and presses a kiss first to the ring and then to the inside of the god’s wrist. “Love doesn’t fix everything,” he comments absently, still playing with Loki’s hand.

“No,” the god agrees, “but it certainly helps.”

Finally, finally, a small smile creeps across Tony’s face. He pulls Loki towards him and kisses him soundly, giving them both a moment to enjoy news that is meant to be enjoyed. Loki can tell that the news hasn’t quite sunk in yet for Tony, but he keeps that to himself. He will give the human all the time he needs. “We’re going to have to get married before you start showing,” Tony says laughingly, “otherwise it’ll cause a huge scandal.”

“As if a pregnant man on Midgard will not be cause enough,” Loki snorts.

Tony blinks, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Fuck, that’s going to take some getting used to. I got you pregnant!”

Loki raises an eyebrow. “Proud of yourself, are you?”

Tony coughs and then clears his throat, giving the answer more thought than strictly necessary. “Yeah, a bit.”

Loki smirks. “You insufferable, egotistic man.”

Tony grins.

****

 There is nothing quite like the bitter, burning taste of hot black coffee. Loki doesn’t agree, but Tony has long ago dismissed Loki’s tastes as extremely odd and in no way normal. He drinks his second cup, ignoring the fact that it’s almost time for dinner. Steve gives him a sidelong look, wordlessly chastising Tony for drinking so much caffeine so late in the evening because it’s going to interfere with his sleep. Tony doesn’t really care about that. He’s definitely going to be up all night anyways because _holy fuck, a baby._

After having what seems to be some sort of internal debate, Steve lets out a sighs of defeat and leaves Tony alone. “At least it isn’t alcohol,” he mutters, turning away and going through the fridge. Loki eyes Tony over the rim of his mug of hot chocolate, and Tony makes a face at him in response before looking apologetic and guilty. He decides that what Steve doesn’t know can’t hurt him and stays quiet on the subject. “So, I hate to ask,” Steve begins hesitantly, “but how did the meetings go?”

Tony blinks, looking intensely confused for a second, before his memory comes rushing in. Oh, right, the meetings. “They actually went fine, Cap. Pepper and I had a talk that was not so fine, but it should help things start to be sort of okay again.” Tony shrugs. “Nothing to get too upset over.” Loki raises a single eyebrow, looking dubious and condescending all at once. Tony kind of gives him a sheepish smile, because he deserves that look, and hopes Steve doesn’t catch on to his little white lie.

“Oh.” Confusion blooms on Steve’s face. “But you look like your whole world got upended.”

And just like that Tony cracks. “You bet your star-spangled ass it did!” He agrees enthusiastically, just shy of slightly deranged. “And I have no idea how to react, but it has nothing to do with Pepper or the company.”

“Um, then who does it have to do with?” Steve’s expression takes confusion to a whole new level.

“That fucker right there.” Tony points imperiously at Loki, whose eyes widen and then narrow.

“You cannot seriously intend to blame me for this. Last I checked, the results require two people to participate.”

“You could’ve warned me!”

“I was not aware it was even remotely possible, let alone something to caution against!” Loki shoots back, irritation clear in his voice. “Twenty minutes ago you were proud and now you are agitated? _Make up your mind.”_

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m still proud as hell, but seriously this is going to take some getting used to. And holy fuck, I still think I’m unqualified.”

Loki’s face twists into an unsatisfied frown. “Qualification in this area is inexact at best, nonexistent at worst. Neither of us would be here if it were otherwise. Lesser men than you have performed admirably, and there is no reason why you will not outshine them all.”

“Um, guys?” Neither Tony nor Loki seem to hear Steve’s voice. The poor man is trapped behind the counter with Loki on one side and Tony on the other, blocking any escape routes.

“Again with the stupid light!” Tony growls angrily.

“You latch on to the oddest things!” Loki yells, exasperation clear in every line of his body. “Whether or not you feel up to the task, Stark, it is happening, and you have expressly forbidden me from leaving. You are involved, you will do your best, and it will be more than ‘good enough’. Am I clear?”

“Yes, dear,” Tony agrees sullenly, hating to be called out on his own bullshit.

“What in the world is going on!?” Steve yells, frustrated.

Tony jumps, looking at Steve in surprise. He had kind of forgotten he was there. “Uh, new world view?” Tony says, finishing the sentence with a half grin.

For a few seconds Steve’s gaze alternates between Tony and Loki, measuring their expressions. “I feel like I don’t want to know.”

Tony laughs and claps him on the back. “That’s the spirit, Cap!”

“This is my life now,” Steve sighs dramatically. Loki and Tony share the sentiment, but they keep that to themselves. “Do either of you want to help my star-spangled ass with dinner?”

“Language, Steve!”

Loki snorts. “I will assist. I am interested in learning Midgardian recipes.”

“Great! I’m making spaghetti and meatballs tonight, and I have to make enough for everybody.”

“Another team dinner?” Tony makes a face. “We just had one of those!”

“It was a week ago, Tony.” Steve gives him a hopeful look. “I was thinking of making it a weekly thing. I mean, even in the war my friends and I ate together whenever we could, and I figure we really have no excuse in this day and age.” He sounds a little wistful, like an old man talking about his younger days. Which Tony realizes with a start, he sort of is.

“If that’s what you want, gramps, then us young ‘uns are powerless to resist you.”

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you to respect the elderly?” Steve asks before swiping the remains of Tony’s coffee and carrying it to the sink.

“Aw, Steve, wait, I’m sorry, give it back!” But Tony’s coffee remains lost forever. Loki follows Steve, cackling, while Tony trails behind them with a few dregs of hope dying in his heart when he sees that his mug has indeed been dumped down the sink. “You are an evil, horrible old man and I hope you know that.”

Steve just smiles. “Always be cautious around elderly people.”

Tony sticks out his tongue, looking exactly like a mature, responsible adult. Definitely. Then he notices all the vegetables sitting on the counter. “What are those for?”

“Cooking, eventually,” Steve answers. “I just haven’t finished putting them away.”

“Oh, okay. I’m going to go upstairs and work on stuff.” Tony narrows his eyes. “And make another coffee because _somebody_ dumped mine.”

“All in the name of duty, sir,” Steve says, standing straight and snapping off a salute. Tony just sighs and stalks from the room. Then Steve turns to Loki. “Okay, we need to get these vegetables washed and peeled before he comes back down. I blend them into the sauce.”

Loki takes a second to look impressed before he starts working. “He never notices?”

“I’m sneaky. And no one expects it, coming from me.” Loki laughs as he peels carrots and Steve is helpless but to join in.

Upstairs, blissfully unaware of his impending healthy meal, Tony stares at his tablet with a somewhat blank expression. Every time he manages to turn his attention to the cloaking device, thoughts about his future kid pop up and he gets distracted. Tony Stark, future father. Who’d have thought? Deeming the cloaking device as a lost cause for the time being, Tony pulls up blue prints of his floor, wondering where they’d put a baby. Loki’s old room will obviously become the kid’s bedroom, but everywhere else will seriously need to change. There’s a supreme lack of railings, a crap ton of tools lying around, and automatic doors that provide way too easy access to the roof (also no railings) and the outside world. In fact, most of the living areas of the tower will need to be baby-proofed.

Tony pulls up a new file and starts typing away, making a list of every change he’ll need to make. No way in hell is he going to let his kid get injured because he was careless or stupid. No, nothing but the best will be good for his tiny person.

Then he pauses, frowning. Loki’s thoughts made it clear that no one really needs to know just yet, and Tony agrees that they should keep it between themselves as long as possible, but they’re going to have to tell somebody. Loki’s going to need medical scans and checkups and stuff. Tony’s not exactly sure what _stuff_ entails, but he’s pretty sure Loki’s going to need it. He’ll talk to Loki about it later. In the meantime, he returns to his lists, trying to think of everything a baby might need.

A little while later, Loki comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Tony’s neck and settling his chin on Tony’s shoulder. He is quiet through a second, obviously reading the screen, “I will not need medical attention for a while yet. I am only eight days pregnant.”

“Eight days?” Tony twists around so he can look at Loki properly. “You knew the moment it happened, didn’t you?”

“I was aware, yes.”

“Wow. How did it feel?”

Loki gives him an odd look. “I will tell you later. Rogers and I have finished preparing dinner.”

“Sweet! Steve’s spaghetti sauce is awesome.”

“Mmhmm, he told me that he learned it from an old Italian woman during the war,” Loki agrees, somewhat distractedly. “You seem to have recovered from your fright.”

Tony just shrugs. “Not exactly, but I can’t be scared forever and I’ll be dammed if I’m not going to do this right. I am Tony fucking Stark, and I can sure as hell raise a baby with my husband.”

A small smile stretches across Loki’s face, and he leans in to kiss Tony. “I do believe you have skipped some steps, darling.”

“Yeah, about that, how about we get married sooner rather than later? Like next week or something.”

“I am not opposed, but why the sudden rush?”

“No rush, there’s just not really any sense in waiting. Though I’ve got a shitty feeling that something’s about to go down. Even with that crazy robot attack, things have been way too quiet.”

Loki hums, pressing his lips together in a thin line. “I find that I agree with you. Now come, Rogers and I did not work for our food to grow cold.”

“Couldn’t you just magically warm it up again?”

“That is beside the point.”

Tonight, dinner is livelier. Clint actually talks without including that many insults and Thor manages to avoid calling Loki his brother. Sort of. As per what seems to be fast becoming their usual, Loki shocks everyone by announcing that their wedding will take place on the Saturday next. Tony recovers from his shock first. “Sounds good. Don’t let me forget to text Rhodey.”

“Wait, you didn’t know?” Clint asks incredulously.

“Nah, but I told him we should do it next week or something.”

“Oh. Are you going to have a party?”

“Do you want me to have a party?”

“Yes.”

Tony snorts. “Okay, party it is. But we’re probably just going to come back here and eat food.”

Clint seems satisfied by that, but Natasha looks affronted. “That’s not a party. I’m going to plan the party.”

“Knock yourself out.”

“I should like to procure pictures of this event with a camera,” Thor announces decidedly.

“You’re going to need a suit,” Natasha informs him. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow.” Loki’s lips are pressed together, as if having Thor at his wedding is the last thing he wants. Knowing Loki, it probably is, but he says nothing. Tony squeezes his arm in silent recognition.

Then a polite knock sounds on the doorframe, and seven pairs of eyes turn to see Coulson standing just inside hallway, looking incredibly amused. “I believe congratulations are in order?”

“Hey, Phil!” Clint calls. “Want some pasta? Steve made it.” Utterly unable to refuse Captain America’s cooking, Coulson agrees to say for dinner. After a bit of shuffling and pulling an extra chair from god knows where (actually, Loki might’ve conjured it), they get Coulson settled at the table with the rest of them. Tony digs into his own plate with gusto, completely missing the looks Loki and Steve are sending each other across the table.

“So am I invited to this wedding or am I gatecrashing?” Coulson asks in his calmly amused way.

“Yeah you’re invited,” Tony says, waving his hand as if such a thing was never in debate. “I’m sure someone will tell you the time and place once we figure that out.” Coulson’s gaze slides to Natasha, and she nods. He looks pleased after that.

“What brings you to our company, Son of Coul?” Thor asks boisterously. To this day, Tony can’t figure out whether he actually thinks that’s Coulson’s name or if it’s some sort of joke. It has the elements of both.

“Fury sent me to arrest Loki,” he replies calmly, twirling some spaghetti on his fork before turning to Loki. “Can I arrest you?”

“No.”

“What a shame. Oh well, I tried.”

Tony snickers. “What, no Tasers? No deadly calm Agent Coulson patent threats?”

“Nah, that would be an awful wedding gift.” He leans forward, suddenly serious. “Natasha filled me in on you two, and as far as I’m concerned, I don’t believe you’re a threat to us.” Loki snorts. “I don’t think you want to be a threat to us,” Coulson amends. “Not as long as Tony does what he does.”

“You are correct in that assumption.” Loki leans back, a steely glint in his eyes. “But do not forget that I aim to protect me and mine. I could care less about Midgard as a whole, but this is where we choose to make our home. Do not threaten that, and I will not become a threat.”

“Sensible,” Coulson agrees. “I have no problem giving you that space. It’s the same space this team is treated with. Fury, however, is not as trusting as I am. He’s not trusting at all, actually. He’s going to keep coming after you. I have orders to attempt to apprehend you at every opportunity, so expect me to visit more often. And Liam should take care not to go out alone, he’s got watchers on him.” Loki curses, his preferred disguise slipping from his fingers.

“He wouldn’t seriously go after Liam, would he?” Natasha asks dubiously. “Arresting Tony Stark’s steady boyfriend and rumored fiancé would be an extremely bad move, especially if the public gets wind of it. Not to mention what we would do in retaliation if Loki was just suddenly pulled off the street.”

Coulson shakes his head. “He’s got the special ops teams on him, virtually untraceable back to S.H.I.E.L.D. Even you’d have a hard time of it.”

“Fucking obsessive asshole,” Tony mutters sullenly, pushing around the salad Steve had forced into his plate. Tony doesn’t like this. There’s so much more at risk if Fury actually manages to get his hands on Loki. “Anything we can do?”

“Stay alert,” Coulson advises them. “I’ll keep you updated as much as I can.”

“Isn’t that not allowed? Double-agent stuff?” Clint asks curiously.

“I haven’t been ordered not to. Besides, your team might be under your own command, but it’s still considered part of S.H.I.E.L.D., at least where paperwork is concerned.” Clint grins, looking impressed by Coulson’s flawless reasoning. Tony can’t help but look a little impressed himself. Coulson is useful to have on their side, and he makes pretty good company.

Once the food has been eaten and all the dirty dishes have been cleared away, Tony is delighted to discover that tonight’s team dinner also comes with dessert. Steve walks out of the kitchen with the biggest, most incredible chocolate cake Tony’s ever seen. Everyone digs in excitedly except for Thor, who looks as if he’s seen a ghost after his first bite. He carefully settles down his fork, the movement so unusual for the boisterous god that he has the whole table’s attention. “This is mother’s recipe.” His calm voice, though quiet, slices through any remaining conversation and the room goes abruptly quiet.

“It is,” Loki agrees.

Steve glances back and forth between them. “Loki made dessert,” he says by way of an explanation when curios glances turn his way.

Thor takes another small bite before speaking again. “It is my favorite.”

“I am aware,” Loki answers dryly. “I would have words with you later,” he continues quietly.

“You did not need to prepare a cake to ask for that,” Thor responds just as quietly, “but the gesture is appreciated.” Loki inclines his head stiffly, formally, and then conversation bursts up again, taking a shaky turn for safer things, everyone trying to tamp down their own curiosity and give the gods the privacy they surely deserve. Steve’s team dinners might just turn into family bonding events.

Once the entire cake has been devoured, Coulson is tickled pink to receive an invitation to the now weekly event, and two gods silently stand and leave the table, retreating to Thor’s private floor and leaving the others bursting with curiosity and no small amount of concern. Tony tries not to fidget and keeps careful track of Loki’s emotions.


	6. When Your Eyes are Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers! Another week and another chapter complete! Hooray for me! Wow, I can't believe this is going by so fast (for me at least)  
> Thank you to everyone who reads this and has left comments or given me kudos, you guys make my days brighter! ♥  
> Please enjoy this week's chapter :)
> 
>  
> 
> Also, please let me know if there are any mistakes in the chapter so I can fix them :)

“Speak quickly, brother, and spare me your tricks. If you have come to ask about Asgard, know that I have not yet returned nor have I contacted them.”

“I have no intention to trick you, _brother,_ ” Loki spits the word, glaring at Thor, before he takes a deep breath and recovers himself. “I have need to ask of you a favor.”

Thor visibly hesitates, regarding Loki carefully. “Speak then, but remember that I agree to nothing at the moment.”

Loki nods, having expected nothing less. He does not speak immediately, and instead takes some time to organize his words. Thor waits patiently, something completely new for him. “I require an apple, one of Iðunn’s, and I would ask that you retrieve one when you next return to Asgard.”

“An apple? Are you injured?” Thor’s eyes flick over Loki, looking for any injury he might be hiding.

Loki wishes the oaf luck. If he wants something to be hidden, it stays hidden. “I am not injured at present, and this apple is not for me.”

Understanding dawns on Thor’s face. “You wish it for the Man of Iron.” It is not a question, but Loki nods in confirmation anyways. It would not do to have the oaf confused on matters as important as this. Following Loki’s confirmation, Thor looks slightly less guarded and slightly more incredulous. “You are serious about this.”

Another not-question, one that irritates Loki. “Of course I am.”

“Because you found this bond.”

“Forget the bond!” Loki growls. “I am serious because I found Tony. If this was just a matter of a bond with no emotional attachment, do you honestly think I would marry him? After everything that happened last time?” Loki’s jaw works as he glares at Thor, angry at himself for saying so much and angry at Thor for making it necessary.

Thor gives him a measured look. “I have learned not to assume anything with you.”

Loki snorts. “I would so enjoy seeing you put such wisdom into practice. Even now you assume the worst of me.”

“In the past I assumed the best, which was a grave mistake.”

“Enough of this,” Loki growls. “Will you do this for me?”

Thor stays quiet for a long moment, thinking. There was once a time when he would jump to assist Loki, but that time is long past. Loki is in part to blame. He wanted this change in Thor, has wanted it for years. It is not complete; Thor still holds an idea of Loki in his mind, except now Loki plays the part of the villain rather than the lost baby brother. Thor has at least learned to suspect Loki’s motives, but now he sees a knife behind every shadow, and that is not the way Loki operates. When it is necessary, when it is logical, Loki has no qualms with killing. He does not take any particular enjoyment in the deaths of others, but he will not deny the thrill he feels after a successful fight or when besting an enemy, and Thor is no better in this regard.

Thor, however, kills in the light of the sun in glorious battle for the sake of ‘protection’. Loki kills from the shadows, infinitesimally neater, much more convenient, and in past times with the same goal in mind, yet Loki is seen as a snake. The Æsir consider his methods distasteful. On Midgard, however, it is different. In this tower alone, Loki lives with two others who strike from the shadows, thrust into the light yet still hiding. It is an admirable balance, one that Asgardians would scorn, let alone attempt to understand. In any great kingdom or government, unpleasant work is necessary. Loki remembers doing much in the name of the Allfather, yet people are always unwilling to acknowledge it, instead attributing their successes to Thor and Asgard’s warriors. Idiots, all of them.

“Perhaps,” Thor says quietly, shaking Loki out of his thoughts.

“Perhaps…?”

“I will bring you an apple, on the condition that you answer a question.”

Loki is instantly wary. “What question is this?”

“Why did you go to such lengths to stop my coronation? And why did you try to kill me?”

Loki stills, his face going blank. “That is more than one question.”

“I would have an answer for both, if you want me to do you any favors.”

Loki’s teeth come together in a snap, and his jaw twitches. Without speaking, he turns away from Thor to look out of the windows. The view is nowhere near as enjoyable as the one from his and Tony’s floor. He does not want to have this conversation, but there are not many options to prolong Tony’s life. This option is by far the easiest, in relative terms, and so Loki’s pride will have to be silenced, for the time being. “You were not ready to be king.” The words come slowly, unwillingly.

Thor frowns. “Why not just say so?”

“I did. I spoke to the Allfather, but he would not hear my words. He believed me to be speaking with jealousy for a throne I did not want.”

This seems to bring Thor up short. “You did not want it?”

“Of course not!” Loki bursts out, annoyed that anyone who has known him as long as Thor would think this a desire of his. “To rule is to be duty bound to those you rule. It is to sacrifice your own happiness and freedom for the sake of the people, for a people who already hated me. What reason would I have to possibly desire that kind of prison?”

Thor blinks once, slowly. “The power?”

“What power? I have all the power I could possibly wish for, with more available to me should I desire it. A throne’s power is symbolic at best and a restriction at all other times. I did not envy you the throne.”

“I see,” Thor answers slowly, treating the statement like a blatant lie. He does not see, not yet. “Why not share this with me earlier? Before any of this happened? I do not recall you ever bringing up the subject.”

Loki just gives him a look. “Why should I have wasted my breath? You would not have listened.”

“You do not know that.”

“Thor,” Loki says with a sigh, “if I had approached you before all of this happened and expressed my doubts of your ability to rule, what would you have done?”

“I would have…” Thor trails off, his expression turning sour. “I would have gotten angry and raced toward the throne all the more,” he admits quietly. “Foolishness was second nature to me.”

“First, actually,” Loki says acidly. Then he takes another deep breath and continues with his explanation. “So I did what I deemed necessary. I needed the Allfather to see you without your golden light, to see that the coronation needed to be postponed for a few years yet. You were not ready to rule.”

A new sort of incredulity flashes across Thor’s face. “You only meant to delay me?”

“Yes,” Loki snaps. “I already told you that I did not want the throne. Blocking you from it permanently would have only condemned me to that fate. Or so I thought.”

“Then why orchestrate my banishment?” Thor demands angrily. “Why try and kill me instead of bringing me home?”

“We were never supposed to reach Jotunheimr! We were supposed to be stopped at the gates, but thanks to your pigheaded stubbornness we proceeded ahead of schedule. I meant to expose your rashness, but not the way it happened! Instead, I exposed _myself_.”

Thor seems to have been pushed into momentary silence, looking sad but grim. “You discovered your Jotun form on that trip,” he says quietly.

Loki’s gaze turns sharp. “Did you know? Ahead of time?”

Thor shakes his head. “No, mother told me, after you fell. She regretted not telling you sooner, but father…” He trails off, looking awkward.

“Forbade her?” Loki finishes for him. “I had assumed so.” Quiet creeps up around the gods once more, and for a while, they both let it rest around them. Thor is still waiting for another answer, and Loki is even more reluctant to give it. He considers leaving. He considers telling Thor that he has spoken enough, that his end of the deal is fulfilled. One look at Thor’s face, set in mulish stubbornness, quashes that thought as soon as it has a chance to surface. “I could not allow you to return to Asgard.”

Thor’s face turns hard. “Why? You claim you did not want the throne, so why attempt to kill me?”

“I was content to let you live your life on Midgard with Jane Foster, but your idiotic band of friends changed that plan.”

“They came retrieve me,” Thor says, somewhat defensively.

“They came to Midgard under direct orders not to, committing treason. I was their king, I thought I could consider myself their friend, but they disobeyed my orders and acted against me. I did nothing wrong while I sat upon that throne, yet they still insisted on painting me a villain!”

“Why not bring me back?” Thor asks hotly. “You say you never intended my banishment, yet you held the title of king and you did not bring me back!”

“I could not undo the Allfather’s actions.” Thor looks as if he is about to protest, but Loki holds up a hand. “Thor, _I could not,_ ” he repeats firmly. “If you were going to return at all, it would only have been when you proved yourself worthy, as were the original conditions set by the Allfather, and there was nothing I could have done to reverse that.”

“Even if you wanted to.” Thor’s voice is accusing, and the words hang heavy in the air.

Loki cannot avoid the issue any longer. “There was a time when you wished to kill every single Jotun.”

“There was,” Thor agrees, looking mildly confused and annoyed at the seemingly abrupt change of topic.

“What reason, then,” Loki says quietly, “would I have had to convince myself that your hatred would not spread to me?”

“I would not hurt you!” Thor says quickly, looking abhorrent of the very thought.

“Truly?” Loki asks sarcastically. “You had no problem mocking me, you had no problem treating me like an inconvenient dog, and this as your brother!” He spits. “I was terrified that you would only see me as a monster and make good on your promises. I had no reason to think otherwise.”

Thor’s mouth falls open and he gapes for a second before he recovers his ability to speak. “You cannot believe that I would have killed you, that I would have forgotten everything you are to me!”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Loki challenges. “Fandral would, Hogun would, Volstagg would, and Sif would lead the charge! Forget all I have done for them, forget the times I have saved their lives, and forget that I thought myself their friend! The man that I called father for over a thousand years took it upon himself to kill me with the most excruciating methods he knew of. What guarantee did I have for a brother’s love?”

“Every guarantee.”

Loki cannot help it. He laughs. He laughs and laughs, horrible feelings burning through him and making each laugh a broken and painful thing. Thor watches him, eyes downcast, looking as if something in him is broken as well and visibly trying to hold back a wince in the face of Loki’s laughter. Loki has no sympathy for him, not after the centuries of pain and sadness Thor has caused him. He refuses to feel like that again. 

Eventually, he stops laughing and wipes the tears from his eyes. Loki grins, looking every bit as crazed as he had when he had first come to Midgard. “Every guarantee? So you would not have raged? You would not have acted first, even if you came to regret your actions later? You would have stopped your friends from harming me, ignoring their accusations and stories until you had a chance to speak with me yourself?” Thor opens his mouth, a determined glint in his eye, but Loki holds up a hand. “Think before you answer, Odinson. It may help if you tried to remember a time, any time at all, when you have done at least one of these things for me. Perhaps then you can convince me.”

Again, Thor opens his mouth. Loki can hear his quick inhalation of breath, preparing to prove him wrong. Except, no words ever come out. Thor’s look of easy victory quickly changes to one of befuddlement, then to one of shock, and finally to an expression of complete and utter shame. “Never…” He swallows harshly. “Never have I shown you these considerations, and never,” Thor’s voice breaks, “never have I given you reason to trust in me,” he admits hollowly, voice filled with stunned shame. He lowers his eyes to the floor, slumping where he stands.

In this moment, Thor is the picture of complete defeat, and as much as Loki needed to see this, as much as he had desired it, when presented with the actual thing, he can find no satisfaction in it. The sight burns as much as Thor’s blindness had, but it needed to be done. “Look at me, Thor.” The god slowly raises his head, eyes filled with a fathomless guilt and a weariness that had never been present when they were but a few years younger. Little by little, Thor is finally beginning to see, not just Loki, but everything, and Loki knows exactly who is responsible for that. “Your Jane has changed you. There was a time not so far in the past when you would have insisted that you did nothing wrong until your dying breath. You are not as you once were.”

“Nor are you, Loki,” Thor says gravely. “I find that of recent, more often than not you are unrecognizable to me.”

Loki just sighs. “I doubt you have ever actually known me, Thor, but neither have I ever really known myself. Until recent, I am afraid I lost myself, completely, but it is returning to me now. How I merge the pieces of what I was and what I am will be difficult, and it will take years. I need Tony around for all of it and whatever comes afterward. I have spoken my part and your questions are answered. Will you bring me what I need?”

For a long while, Thor remains silent, pensive, yet still miserable looking. The silence drags on for so long that Loki begins to fear Thor will refuse him. It would not be incongruent with how Thor was before.

“I will do this for you,” Thor says, finally, in an uncharacteristically low voice. “It is far past time I learn how to be a brother to you.”

Loki bows his head. “I thank you for this, Thor, but it will be a long time before I am willing to call you brother once more. You have finally begun to see, but you cannot catch barely a glimpse yet hope to understand everything you have not yet seen.”

“I understand.” Thor’s voice is quiet, small. They both lapse into quite for a second, thinking, and then Thor clears his throat. “I will leave for Asgard in the morning. Father will be aware that you are on Midgard, but I will not tell him where you are.”

“You cannot hope to lie convincingly, Thor,” Loki chastises. “You have never been good at it, and I doubt you have changed so much.”

“I will simply tell him that my brother has disappeared and that I hold no hope of finding him. It is the truth,” he adds on softly.

“Truth enough,” Loki agrees, his voice somewhat rough. He feels as if an invisible hand is pressing down on his chest, creating the most awful pressure and not allowing him to _breathe._ He needs to leave, now. And so, with one last nod to Thor, Loki draws himself up, confidently standing straight, and teleports immediately to wherever Tony is.

****

Tony has the strangest urge to move his hands away from himself, and he does it not a moment too soon.

He had been tinkering with one of the gauntlets from the suit, making seemingly unneeded adjustments. Individually, they had been unneeded, but collectively they improved the gauntlet’s calibration which had been sorely needed.

So, it’s a good thing he moved both the gauntlet and the screwdriver away from himself and out of the way, because not a second after he does it Tony ends up with a lap full of Norse god. A second after that, Loki’s full weight settles on Tony, which is really strange, considering Loki’s form was a bit ahead of it. 

Loki immediately buries his face in Tony’s neck. “Oh good, you are on our floor. I thought you might be in the lab.” His voice is muffled.

Tony wraps his arms around Loki, marveling once again at how much the god likes to cuddle. Not that he’s complaining or anything. “You okay, Lo?” Tony already knows the answer, he had been ‘listening in’ through the bond, after all, but some questions just have to be asked even if it’s just a formality. A relationship dies when the communication dies.

“Perfectly fine,” Loki mumbles in reply, and Tony lets him have the lie. They both know nobody believes it.

When the quiet has lasted a good amount of time, Tony wiggles a bit in his seat. “Alright, Lo, you’re kind of heavy and I’m losing the feeling in my legs.”

Loki snickers, seemingly recovering himself. “How eloquent. For the record, I let you sit in my lap quite often.” As he talks, he edges himself off of Tony’s lap and onto the couch beside him.

Tony laughs. “Yeah, well you’re way stronger than me. Also for the record, we both know I’m not really sitting.” He busies himself with taking off the gauntlet and settling both it and the screwdriver on the coffee table, giving Loki some time to sort through his thoughts. Despite the jokes, Tony can still feel the god’s emotions roiling around. He casts around for a distraction of some sort, because sometimes talking isn’t what a person needs. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

“No,” Loki says, catching on to Tony’s idea and letting his grin slip away. Tony knew it was a fake one anyways. “I am not in much of a sitting mood. Would you like to spar?”

Tony’s eyes flick down to Loki’s stomach before settling on his face again. “Uh, you sure that’s a good idea, Reindeer Games?”

“Why shouldn’t it be? The exercise will do me good, I need to calm down.”

Tony’s still worried. “There’s always sex. Sex might be a better option. Less hitting.”

Loki gives him an exasperated look, obviously displeased by Tony’s answer. “I would like to remind you that this is not my first experience with pregnancy, and I know my limits well. Not only are you completely unable to land a blow without my allowing it, I will also be placing protective spells around myself so that the child will be safe even in the event of an accident. I would like to spar because I am feeling violent at the moment. The hitting is the main point.” He pauses, tilting his head to the side like a predator considering easy prey. Tony hasn’t seen him like this for a while, and the glitter in Loki’s eyes sends a shiver of anticipation down his spine. “Perhaps the sex after, if you are good and if you are still conscious.” His voice has gone lower, the god completely aware of what it does to Tony like that. Loki is in no mood for negotiations.

“Completely safe?” Tony just wants to be absolutely sure, is all.

“As long as I am not rounded, the child will be as safe as it could possibly be.” Loki leans closer, voice falling to a predatory purr. “Now, will you come with me?”

Tony’s last bit of resistance crumbles to dust. “Lead the way.”

Loki smirks, reaches out, and grabs Tony’s shoulder. A sickening spin of colors and a second of strange blankness later, Tony finds himself standing in the middle of the gym, a little disoriented but no worse for wear. “Wow.” He blinks, trying to regain his memento. “We totally have to do that where my sensors can pick it up, because that was _awesome_.”

“No science,” Loki orders. “No calculations. No _thinking_.” He steps back and spreads his arms, a manic glint in his eyes. “Attack me.”

“Uh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

A huff of annoyance is the all the warning Tony gets before Loki darts forward, grabs Tony with one hand, and throws him across the room. Thank fuck the whole gym is covered in shock absorbent mats, because otherwise Tony’s less than graceful landing would have hurt a lot more than it did. And thank fuck for all that one-on-one training with Loki, because Tony manages to twist in the air just in time to roll into a somersault when he lands. Rolling straight onto his feet, Tony lowers into a crouch, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Loki is already stalking toward him, and so Tony transfers his eyes from the god’s crazed grin to his torso, watching for a hint of movement that might give away his next move. Natasha had pressed that lesson on him very thoroughly, because it would supposedly help him against all but the best fighters. Unfortunately, Loki probably is the best, and he lunges at Tony without a hint of warning. Tony manages to side-step the attack and get a glancing hit on the god’s jaw.

He probably shouldn’t have bothered, because all it achieves is a shooting pain up his arms without even breaking Loki’s stride. It also prevents him from putting enough distance between Loki and himself to properly avoid another attack.

Laughing madly, and of course not going for the obvious attack, Loki shimmers, and where there was originally one, there are now three. They surround Tony, who really doesn’t know which one is fake, and who ends up circling on the spot, keeping each mad laughing god in his sight as much as possible. They twitch, giving Tony the opening he needs, and he lunges forward, making a split second decision and of course choosing wrong. The illusion fades around, as substantial as a hologram, and Tony falls forward. What was meant to be a tackle turns into a free-fall that will surely end in an unpleasant face plant.

With his face a few inches from the ground, hands dig into his shirt and fling him backwards, switching to his throat in mid-air and slamming him down on his back, exerting just enough pressure to make breathing difficult. Coupled with the fact that his abrupt contact with the floor shoved all the air from his lungs, Tony is seeing little black starbursts in his vision as his lungs scramble to get enough air. Loki holds his position for a second or two more before he leans back, concern written all over his face, and finally letting Tony breathe.

Tony gulps in air, sounding awfully pathetic as he gasps and heaves. He waves off Loki’s concern, he had agreed to this, after all. Once he’s got enough breath to sit up, he notices that Loki’s already moved away and is pacing restlessly, looking like a panther in a cage that is much too small. “Maybe,” he pants, cringing at how pathetic he sounds, “maybe you should work with the, the punching bag while I…” He runs out of air before he can finish the sentence, and he vaguely waves his hand around to convey the rest of his meaning. The arc reactor takes up quite a bit of room in his chest, and the reduced lung capacity has never really bothered him, but when Tony gets winded the recovery is a bitch and a half. A small tendril of remorse works its way through the bond, but Tony brushes it away, physically or mentally, he’s not sure which. Might have been both. He’s never really seen Loki blow up like this, and he figures it’s way past due. It’s not like he’s going to do any real harm blowing up in the gym, and if he does, it literally wouldn’t be the first time Tony had to redo the whole thing from scratch. Fuck, he had construction crews in here every week when the entire team first started living together in the tower. He’s gotten smarter now and designed a whole bracing system integrated in the walls, ceiling and floor. A nuclear bomb could go off in here and leave the rest of the building unaffected.

None of the punching bags are set up, but Loki fixes that problem with a twitch of his fingers, setting up six bags side by side. Tony doesn’t bother getting up from his spot, and instead watches Loki raptly as he takes out his anger on the bags, kicking and punching them so quickly that he’s nearly a blur. There isn’t a single wasted movement as Loki twists and spirals around the bags, brushing so close to them that Tony wonders how a real enemy would react. He continues doing this until one bag bursts, sending sand spraying everywhere.

Loki pauses, staring at the streaming sand and rapidly deflating punching bag with a curiously blank expression on his face. He tilts his head to the side and then the punching bag explodes, sending its remaining sand flying. A crazed grin twitches across his face as Loki flicks his eyes to the next bag. This one explodes in a much more spectacular fashion, it being still filled with sand and all, and Loki’s grin only grows. Suddenly his grin vanishes as if it had never been present, and Loki growls, low and threatening, before he blasts another one apart, the sand flying everywhere in an angry spray, obviously magically advanced because it literally hits every single wall. None of the sand hits Tony, something he is immensely grateful for.

They had come down to spar with the promise of sex, but Loki must have been a lot more stressed than he originally let on. The rest of the punching bags fall to Loki’s fury—Tony can’t fucking believe how much sand those damn things can hold—but the god seems far from satisfied. A growling curse that turns out to be a spell tumbles from Loki’s lips, and the sand rises from every corner of the room, swirling around Loki in an amazingly accurate approximation of and indoor sandstorm. Tony remains untouched in his little bubble of space, and so he is spared from the stinging sand that sounds as if it’s eroding away at the room. Obviously, Loki thinks he’s injured Tony enough for one night.

Outside that bubble, Tony can barely see through all the fucking sand, more than the bags should have been able to hold, probably because Loki’s multiplying whatever the original amount was. A blast of searing heat streaks past, scaring the absolute crap out of Tony, and melts a random cluster of sand into what looks like molten glass, adding the glowing-orange material to the windstorm and forming it into the most fantastic shapes as it cools. Deadly, spikey shapes, but still fucking amazing to see. Blast after blast follows from the indistinct figure at the center of the storm, adding an ominous tinkling sound to the air as the sand hits the glass and the glass pieces brush against each other.

It is terrifying to watch, yet horribly fascinating, and Tony is getting more than a little worried. “Lo?” He has to shout to be heard over the rushing noise of the sand. “Hey, are you okay?” It’s an extremely dumb question, and Tony winces at his own idiocy, but it does garner an answer.

“No,” Loki hisses, his voice somehow carrying directly to Tony. Suddenly, Tony can spot the god’s eye’s across the room, two flashing points of green in a sea of chaos. The figure raises an arm and slashes his hand through the air, and all at once, everything stops, suspended in midair in such startling stillness that the scene looks as if it’s been preserved in crystal, never again to move in all of time. “I am not,” Loki continues, and then the stillness is broken. The sand falls to the floor with a rushing sound, interspersed with random thuds as the glass chunks fall as well.

Once everything settles, Tony can’t stop his mouth from falling open as his mind goes blank. The entire floor is covered in sand, and some of the machines are buried beneath piles of the stuff. The walls have been scoured and scratched, giving the room the appearance of a cave. The lighting was spared, if only because Tony is paranoid and has it all encased in the kind of glass that wouldn’t scratch if you scrubbed it with diamonds. Chunks of Loki’s glass are scattered everywhere, whipped and sculpted into terrifying shapes, gleaming along razor edges and all the more beautiful for their obvious danger. Only magic can explain the amazing clarity of the glass. “Holy shit,” Tony breathes, unable to put any volume in his voice. He’s that amazed.

“Are you bothered by this?” Loki asks in a purring voice. It sounds like steel hidden beneath velvet. “Is it unbefitting of someone of my position? Proof of my madness?”

“Fucking right it’s proof that you’re insane!”

Loki growls, truly animalistic, and shifts closer. His eyes flash red for a moment, as if he can’t control his shape, while steel walls begin to build up around his mind. Tony closes the distance between them, but keeps his hands to himself for the time being. Loki is tense and completely wound up, and Tony doesn’t want to start another sparring match. “But here’s proof of my insanity: that whole display was fucking _hot._ It was terrifying, but you wouldn’t hear one word of protest from me if you decided to throw me down and fuck me on the spot.”

“Do not tempt me, Stark, for I am not in a gentle mood.”

“So don’t be,” Tony challenges, practically daring Loki to do something. “You’ve been holding back since you showed up, and don’t even try to tell me you weren’t. This,” Tony waves his hand, gesturing to the room, “should’ve happened a long time ago. What are you afraid of? I’ve been inside your head, I know _every fucking bit of you._ There is no way you’re getting rid of me so easily.” He stands back, arms spread. “Have at it.”

“I refuse.”

“Really? You’re going to pull the contrary card _now_?”

Loki stands even straighter than he already was, making use of his height, with his face fixed in an unreadable expression. Tony refuses to take a peek into his mind. It feels like looking at the answer at the back of a textbook instead of hashing it out on his own. “This… this violent picture you hold of me is not accurate. I have caused enough chaos to last a lifetime in the very short time I’ve known you.”

“So what are you saying?” Tony’s voice is mocking now, the better to bait the god. “You’re just going to stop? Take up knitting or something?” He can’t hold back a snort at the idea of Loki having knitting needles anywhere near him. Loki doesn’t look the least bit amused. “Lo, chaos and madness is who you are. You can’t just decide not to because you think I can’t take it. You won’t be able to keep it up forever.”

Loki steps into his space, but Tony refuses to back down. They’re standing toe to toe, both breathing a little heavier than usual, mostly in anger. “I do what I want, Stark. Do not be so foolish as to think that I will take orders from you.”

Tony smirks, the expression sharper than it usually is. “These aren’t orders, babe. Call them strong suggestions.”

“What, then, do you _suggest_?” Loki growls, his voice rumbling and way too sexy for the menacing tone he’s clearly aiming for.

“Well,” Tony says lowly, leaning even closer to the god, “you can cut the crap and tell me what’s bugging you.” Loki glares, his expression clearly saying that he doesn’t like the idea. It’s what Tony expected, so it doesn’t faze him. He knows pretty much why Loki’s upset anyways. “Or, since it’s getting late, we can do something else. To help you calm down,” he adds on almost reasonably, but at the same time he presses images through the bond, watching greedily as Loki’s eyes darken and his tongue darts out to lick his lips. The anger is still there in Loki’s mind, as is what Tony recognizes as a small amount of self-doubt, but he has Loki’s attention now.

“An intriguing suggestion,” Loki allows. “Though I am disinclined to return to our quarters.”

“Guess I’ll head up on my own then,” Tony says as he turns around abruptly and starts walking to the doors. He’s bluffing, of course, but the feeling is carefully hidden behind subtle barriers that he knows Loki can’t detect. He’s about a foot from the door when a rushing sound comes from behind him, and then his way is blocked by a wall of sand, shifting and blowing around yet somehow maintaining its square-ish shape.

“I am disinclined to allow you to leave,” Loki says from behind him. His voice is rougher now, even more so than before, and it makes Tony wonder whether or not he’s shifted his vocal chords to their Jotun counterparts, if he’s even capable of partial shifts.

Tony turns with a single eyebrow raised and crosses his arms over his chest. “What are you ‘inclined’ to do?” Loki grins, and then there’s a flash of searing heat behind Tony’s back, and Loki crooks a single finger in beckoning. Tony’s hands fly above his head as if being hoisted with invisible rope and then a cool, solid wall of glass presses up against his back, pushing Tony forward on a carpet of shifting sands to where Loki waits.

The god’s grin turns crooked, and once Tony is close enough, he reaches out to brush his hand along Tony’s neck, hooking his fingers into the neckline of Tony’s shirt and dragging down, ripping the fabric as he goes. “I am inclined to take you,” Loki purrs, and fuck, Tony was trying to be mad about his shirt but that voice makes him way too turned on to care. He tries and fails not to squirm as Loki leans in and nips at his lips. When Tony tries to surge forward and kiss him back, Loki draws away just far enough that he can’t reach him, what with his hands being bound the way they are, but just close enough that their proximity is still a maddening presence.

“Get back here!” Tony demands, frustrated. Loki chuckles and leans in again, but this time going straight for Tony’s neck, biting hard enough to hurt, but then kissing and licking the pain away. He ignores Tony’s lips, instead moving down to have his way with Tony’s chest, conveniently accessible thanks to the large rip leaving the front Tony’s shirt in two. He takes his time, meticulous in his attentions, and before long Tony is trembling, trying with less and less success to keep standing. Loki hasn’t even gone below the waist yet, and Tony’s already more aroused than he thought would be possible, all things considered.

Tony finds himself urging Loki on, vocally and through the bond, but he keeps finding this strange hesitance in Loki’s mind. “Fuck,” he finally groans out, “get on with it, Loki!” There must have been the right thing in his tone, because the hesitance vanishes, and Loki finally allows his own arousal to leak through, making Tony groan from the sheer force of it. Loki flicks his fingers and then Tony’s pants are gone, and Loki’s got his legs hooked over his shoulders in the blink of an eye. Whatever patience Loki was showing is gone as he undoes his pants and whispers a few words, pushing into Tony who feels the strangest sensation before adjusting faster than naturally possible and then settles into fucking absolute pleasure. He moans, low and breathy, before letting out a low curse. “I fucking-nngh-love magic!”

Loki pants for a second, shaking as he holds himself in place before he smirks, something in his eyes turning clearer. “That is indeed fortuitous,” he says solemnly, sounding so unaffected and then catching Tony off guard by beginning to fuck him in earnest amidst chunks of glass in a sandy cave that once was a gym.

It’s not comfortable, bent in half and shoved up against a lumpy glass wall, and it’s not anywhere near gentle. Tony knows he’ll be covered with bruises and bite marks and scratches, along with whatever he got from their impromptu sparring match, but fuck if he doesn’t love it. Loki is forcing absolutely filthy sounds from him, which Tony will deny happening later, and he demands Loki to hold him tighter, to fuck him harder. Too caught up in their shared, Loki obeys immediately, forgetting that he’s supposed to be in charge.

It’s almost with surprise that Tony’s orgasm hits him, coming hard and fast, like being blindsided. Loki fucks him through it and then he keeps on going. The only thing Tony can feel is Loki, and he makes damn sure that the god knows it. He practically slams all the sensations through the bond, taking in Loki’s own pleasure and doubling the intensity. Loki’s hips stutter in their frantic rhythm, and his hands grip Tony’s hips painfully hard. A hoarse gasp escapes from his mouth, and Tony pushes just a bit more, knowing exactly how close Loki is.

As it turns out, the god is powerless against this new kind of mental assault. His release comes amidst an outburst of white noise and blinding intensity that lances across the bond affecting Tony just as much as the god.

When he comes back to his senses, he’s sitting on the floor next to Loki, leaning against the wall of glass. Loki had thoughtfully brought Tony’s pants back into existence, saving his bare ass from being covered in sand. Panting and unreasonably exhausted for the one who didn’t really do any work, Tony flops his head to the side to look at Loki. To his immense surprise, the god is panting as well, a satisfied look in his eyes. He mimics Tony’s movement so that he can look at him properly, albeit in a much more graceful way. “I was not aware you were capable of that.”

“Me neither, but I was tied up and I had to do _something,_ so I improvised.”

Loki chuckles once and falls silent, his eyes flicking down to look at the bruises already forming on Tony’s skin. “I believe I might have been too rough,” he says carefully.

“Nah, that was awesome. We should do that again.”

Loki blinks. “You are insane, Stark.”

Tony shakes his head in an undignified flop, sporting a grin just this side of crazy. “No, just particular. You happen to be pretty fucking good at catering to those tastes.”

A silent second follows, and then Loki bursts into laughter, his shoulders shaking with mirth. “Oh yes, quite insane,” he manages to get out between chuckles, once he’s calmed down enough. He seems delighted by this conclusion.

“Lo, I fly around in a tin suit and I go head to head with gods. I play pranks on assassins for shits and giggles and think only blowing up part of my lab is an evening well spent. It seriously took a bit of rough sex for you to figure that out?”

Loki’s eyebrows both shoot up in a massively amused expression, but almost disbelieving at the same time. “You would classify a hurricane of sane and razor sharp glass, controlled by a chaos god no less, as ‘rough sex’?”

“What can I say? You make me have incredibly high standards.”

“Idiot,” Loki says fondly, shaking his head. His eyes travel around the room again, taking it all in. “I suppose I should clean all of this up.” He sounds tired, but resigned. Tony can’t imagine the kind of energy it would take to get rid of all this stuff, and he isn’t exactly sure he wants it gone. It looks pretty cool.

“I’ve got an idea.”

“Do you, now?” Loki asks with some amusement, sensing something of Tony’s intentions through the bond.

“How about we pop upstairs and go to bed, leave all of this here, and have Jarvis make videos of everyone’s reactions?”

Loki pauses for a moment, pretending to think everything over. “This is an acceptable idea,” he finally says, face straight but unable to stop the sensation of a smile from slipping across the bond. He then rests his hand on Tony’s shoulder, and they appear in their room without any delay. Tony is in bed as fast as he can manage, remembering to tell Jarvis to film the team’s discovery.

“Maybe next time you should ask Tasha or Steve to spar with you,” Tony mumbles, head pillowed on Loki’s chest and already more than half asleep.

“And why should I do that?” There’s a hint of amusement in the god’s voice.

“You might actually get a fight.”

Loki lets out a soft chuckle. “Soon enough you will be able to hold your own.” His response goes unheard; Tony’s already asleep. With a satisfied yet exasperated sigh, Loki settles down more comfortably in preparation for the same.


	7. The Wolves All Cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that this is so late! I really have no excuse, but I will just say that life decided that it was about time to kick me in the butt. So so sorry! I will be prompt with this coming Saturday's chapter, I swear!
> 
> Anyways, hello my lovelies :) I would like to give my usual thanks to everyone who has been reading and keeping up, I love you all, and a special thank you to everyone who takes the time to leave a nice comment on my work. You guys are wonderful! 
> 
> Also, I have mostly been working on this late at night, so if there are any spelling/grammar mistakes, please be a dear and let me know!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this (late) chapter!

With morning comes bright sunlight and an agitated archer. The combination informs Loki that it is much later than the time he usually wakes up at. A barely restrained sigh brings Loki’s attention primarily to Barton, who is standing uninvited in his bedroom. An increasingly familiar feeling of irritation rises up in Loki, and he props himself up on his elbows with a glare. Tony is still sleeping peacefully next to him, but Loki knows he will not stay that way for long. He nudges his human awake as he address the archer. “Barton, might I ask why you find it necessary to barge into our chambers?”

Tony lifts his head blearily, turning to look at Barton with some measure of confusion. “Hey Clint, is everything okay? What’s up?”

“What the fuck did you do downstairs?”

Loki thinks for a moment, confused, and then remembers the gym. Tony comes to the same conclusion a bit faster. “You talking about the gym? Sorry about that, things kind of got out of hand. I can have it cleaned up by tonight.”

“Screw the fucking gym!” Barton bursts out. “What the fuck did you do to my _team_? Nat thought it was fucking ‘impressive’, Steve sat his ass down and started fucking sketching, and fucking Bruce was trying to convince Jarvis to let him have the security tapes so he could watch how you fucking did it!”

Loki frowns, his eyes narrowing, just as Tony sits up, the blankets pooling in his lab, and rubs his race. “The fuck, Clint? You’re upset because nobody was angry?”

Instead of responding, Barton’s eyes go wide and then cloud over in absolute anger. Loki follows the line of his gaze and looks over at Tony. “Ah.” A small amount of remorse and quite a bit of satisfaction slides across the bond, prompting Tony to look down at himself.

He lets out a whistle, impressed despite himself. “Well, that’s more colorful than I thought it’d be.” A pokes at a vivid purple bite mark decorating his chest, one of many such marks and bruises, and winces slightly. “Good work, Reindeer Games.” And then he grins, letting his own satisfaction show.

“Are you insane?”

Tony looks back at Barton. “What? I happen to like being all marked up. Calm your shit, birdbrain.”

“You’re doing something to them,” Barton accuses Loki, “just like you did to me!”

The familiar irritation turns to anger. “You know I am not,” Loki spits, eyes flashing. “Our minds were joined, you saw my thoughts and knew my feelings, yet you still persist in believing that mind control would be my first choice!”

“You can’t be trusted! Especially after what you did to me!” Clint bursts out, looking as if he has been holding these words in for a long time.

Loki just laughs in response, a single, dark chuckle. “After what I did to you? All I did was change your loyalties, Barton, and you are well aware of that fact.” Loki sits up, eyeing the assassin with disdain. “You do not hate me for what I did to you, you hate how _easy_ it was. You hate yourself for it, you hate the shame that comes from it. Do not even try to deny it, Barton, I know your mind,” Loki pauses, taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly, trying to force some of the anger to bleed away, before continuing in a much quieter tone. “You never stood a chance against him, despite how honorable you are. _I_ never stood a chance against him. I chose to accept responsibility for my actions from that time, and I regret what happened to you, but I refuse to shoulder your ridiculous accusations and act as a scapegoat for your self-guilt!” Barton’s eyes nearly bug out of his head in rage, quite an unattractive look. He opens his mouth to say something, but Loki cuts him off. “No, enough of this. You are continuously picking at this wound, and it is no fault of mine if you allow it to fester. It is done, and there is nothing either of us can do to change it, however much we want to. Cease this imbecilic behavior, it is beneath you.”

After he says this, Loki does not allow Barton the chance to respond. He throws off his covers and stalks away, summoning his clothes to him as he goes. Rather than waste his time with the elevator, Loki teleports himself to the stairwell outside the gym. He pushes through the doors, ignoring the slamming sound they make. Loki is in no mood to censure himself; Barton’s accusations have left him feeling sour.

The mind is sacred; internal control should only be used in a dire situation when every other option has been exhausted, and even then most beings are still reluctant to use it. It is the one rule that Loki did not want to break, instead training himself to be a master manipulator using only external forces. Loki valued the privacy of his mind above all other things, and it is what _he_ chose to use against him. The anger and hatred burns, and Loki knows it is obvious on his face. He pauses just outside the entrance to the gym and engages in what feels like a futile attempt to control his expression. After a few seconds, he does not feel as if he has been particularly successful. He does not particularly care.

Loki pushes open the double doors to the gym and finds a scene near identical to what Barton described, though Romanov appears to be missing. Banner looks up when Loki enters the room, the barest hint of apprehension coloring his face before he apparently decides to throw caution to the wind and approach the god. “How’d you make all the sand?”

“I duplicated what I had.”

“How?” Banner looks eager for an answer, all thoughts of chaotic gods and their past encounters with horrific green monsters temporarily silenced in favor of scientific discovery. He stands poised with a tablet, ready to take notes at a moment’s notice.

Loki feels some of his irritation bleed away. “Everything has an essence, something that is the essential piece of its creation. I isolated the signature of the sand’s essence and mimicked it while using a small piece of the already existing material to bind what I had created to a physical existence, rather than leaving it an illusion.”

Banner’s face erupts into confusion, but he dutifully records each point, looking over his notes once more before he looks up at Loki again, obviously looking for some form of clarification. He does not find it in the god’s expression, and he does not ask for it. Instead, he gestures to a jagged chunk of glass. “What medium did you use to melt the sand?”

Loki walks over and places his hand on the glass, a piece that is equal in height to himself and startlingly cold to the touch. He wonders briefly if they all feel like that. “Raw power,” he answers, tracing his finger over grooves and ridges, pausing thoughtfully before speaking again. “With quite a bit of will to achieve the clarity and shape, though lacking in the actual desire to create anything.”

A whistle sounds behind him, low and impressed. Loki turns, surprised, as he had completely forgotten Rogers’ presence. The man stands up, brushing sand from his pants and tucking a sketchbook under one arm. “If this was unintentional I can’t even picture how amazing something would be if it was deliberate.” He shakes his head before tentatively placing a hand on the glass nearest to him, a particularly vicious looking piece with large, spiral spikes tempered by gentle curves. “They’ve got this feeling of controlled chaos,” he says slyly, unable to completely stop the corners of his mouth from turning up.

Loki snorts. “What use would an element of chaos be if it was lost amongst the commotion?” He asks Rogers innocently, surprised again when he gets a chuckle in reply.

“Can I keep one?”

Loki gives Rogers an odd look. “If you wish; I have no use for them.” He walks over to the one Rogers seems to have favored and taps it. The whole piece grows green and shrinks from its original six feet in height to a scant couple of inches. Loki picks it up, still glowing, and carefully hands it to Rogers. “Here. It will return to its original size once you have placed it in whatever spot you deem appropriate. Handle it carefully, it will not break but its spires are no less sharp.”

Rogers smiles and thanks him, taking the glass with cautious hands, and leaves the room with glee in his steps. Loki shakes his head, fighting down a small grin. Rogers’ personality seems to have flipped completely, and though Loki is not so idiotic as to look a gift horse in the mouth, he is not so naïve as to leave it unwatched. He sighs, letting the absurdity of the morning thus far settle into his skin, electing to ignore Barton’s outburst and instead focus on the insanity that seems to be an integral part of any resident of this tower. He sighs, the corners of his mouth twitching in a grin that would be obvious to anyone who knows him well, despite his efforts to hide it. Absentmindedly, he rests a hand on his still-flat stomach, unaccountably pleased with the environment he will be bringing his child into. Then he takes a deep breath, clears his thoughts, and lets his magic seep into the room, testing to see how much of a residue is left over from the previous night. Behind him, he hears Banner clear his throat, and Loki quickly drops his hand. “Yes?”

Banner pauses for a second, a handheld scanning device extended slightly towards the god in one hand and a table in the other. “Uh, well, the readings are starting to go crazy. Are you okay? They’re centered on you.”

“You will find that my scans often make little sense. However, these ones may be acting up because my magic is quite thoroughly saturated throughout the room.” With that explanation, Loki turns his attention back to the room at large, making the least-complicated gestures possible to vanish the chaos he had created and mend the punching bags he had destroyed. He does not want Banner to know the effort required and he wants the scans to make him look more powerful in combination with the minimal movements, so as not to lay all of his cards on the table so soon. Best to keep him guessing. It takes a vast amount of power and concentration to reverse his work, a point of personal prize and an act of common sense. Nobody would be impressed by shoddy spell work that can be easily undone. His magic always had points of stubborn resilience, a personal quirk that has made him all the more powerful once he learned to use those stubborn bits intentionally.

The mounds of sand begin to shift and shudder, carting the glass pieces as it moves. In no more than a few seconds the entire mess disappears as if it was sifted down through the floor, leaving most of the gym in pristine condition. There is nothing Loki is willing to do for the walls. The energy to mend them would be extremely taxing, and he rather likes the way they look now.

Loki is turning to leave when the gym doors fly open, admitting an extremely hyper Tony into the room. “I’ve had an epiphany!” He crows, bolting over to the bemused god and pressing kiss to his lips. Then he runs over to Banner, grabs the man by the wrist, and tugs him away, presumably to go down to the lab. Loki watches in amusement as Banner’s face shifts from confusion to excitement as he catches on to Tony’s excited babbling. “An arc reactor! But _smaller_! It would completely miniaturize the components and then we just have to work on the –”

“DNA and user interface adaption,” Banner interrupts, looking as excited as a small child when presented with gifts. Loki shakes his head when the two leave and resigns himself to a solitary day.

A few hours later finds him upside down on a couch, book suspended in front of him with magic while his fingers tap a rhythm onto his stomach. The book is an excellent one, and the accuracy in the description of dragons is fascinating, considering that there is no possibility that any Midgardian has ever seen one. Loki himself is one of the few beings in existence that has both seen and conversed with them. He wonders whether or not human dreams are more than they appear to be, considering the vast amount of accurate ‘fiction’ he has read. They must have seen these things _somewhere._

His musings are interrupted when the elevator doors swish open, announcing someone’s arrival to his floor. Loki plucks the book from the air and rights himself, his familiar grin upon recognizing Romanov sliding into a carefully neutral expression when he sees that Barton is following behind her. “Thor missed out on our shopping trip and I blame you.” Romanov scowls at him, no doubt picturing Thor attending the wedding in his armor, as would befit an Asgardian prince. Loki himself nearly winces at the thought.

“It is indeed my fault.” He holds his hands up in a placating gesture. “Pick whatever you want him to wear and I will ensure that it fits him perfectly.”

She eyes him for a second. “Fine. You’re forgiven.”

“Wonderful. Why have you brought Barton along to chastise me about Thor?”

The archer in question shifts awkwardly on his feet before sighing. “Barton brought himself along,” he mumbles before looking Loki in the eye. “I’m sorry about this morning. I know it was _him_ that was… Who made you…” he stops and takes a deep breath.

Loki speaks before Barton can start again. “He did not make me do all of it. There were… nobler options available. I am not free of responsibility.”

“Yeah, I _know_ that,” Barton states with an irritated huff. “That’s why it’s so fucking hard to stay angry with you. I’ve been there, most of us have.” He shifts around on his feet again before he huffs and speaks in a rush. “Look, I’d already made the decision to give you a chance when you guys announced you were going to tie the knot, but I fucked up and it’s always worse after a nightmare and I went to the gym to blow off steam and I… well I fucked up.” He inhales again and then walks up to the god, extending his hand. “Truce?”

Loki raises an eyebrow at the choice of words but does not comment. He firmly shakes Barton’s hand and looks him dead in the eye. “Truce.” Barton looks relieved and slightly apprehensive while Romanov looks smug.

****

Hour after his epiphany with Bruce, Tony waltzes out of the lab feeling incredibly proud of himself. They successfully miniaturized an arc reactor, and now they’re just waiting for some parts to finish rendering.

All of his accomplishments are temporarily shoved from his mind when he walks onto his floor to see Loki, Clint, and Natasha jumbled together on a couch, watching _Lord of the Rings._

“See? See?” Clint says enthusiastically. “The sword just falls out and he rides away without it!”

Loki snickers and Natasha shakes her head. “I can’t believe they missed that.” Tony can hear the smile in her voice.

The situation is odd enough that he can only stand there, mouth agape, trying to process it. Maybe he fell asleep in the lab and this is just some sort of crazy dream. “Lo?” He calls out hesitantly, and the god in question turns to look at him, getting some evil enjoyment out of Tony’s confusion.

“Hello, darling. I thought you’d be in the labs for hours more.”

“He calls you darling?” Clint cackles.

Tony decides to ignore Clint and turns to the only sane person in the room. “Tasha, what’s going on? Did I miss something? Is this an alternate dimension? Because I clearly remember our beloved hawk flipping his shit this morning.”

“They’ve enacted a truce,” Natasha says in her usual deadpan way.

“What the fuck, seriously? Is that all I needed to get you to do? A pinky-swear? And you showed him _Lord of the Rings_ without me, I was saving that one! I had so many Gandalf jokes saved up!” Little outburst aside, Tony’s actually relieved that Clint isn’t plotting how to best kill his fiancé now. Supposedly.

Fuck, how is this his life?

“You jealous? I haven’t even mentioned the sparring yet.” Clint says all this with glee, as if tormenting Tony is his top priority. It probably is.

A little bit of Tony’s relief evaporates at the mention of _sparring._ He wasn’t okay with the thought of Loki fighting _him,_ let alone a trained assassin that doesn’t really like him. “Sparring? You two? Uh, yeah, no, I’m not okay with that.”

Natasha gives Loki a look, and when he inclines his head in return she turns back to Tony, who recognizes her interrogation face. Great. This is what he needs at one a.m. “What’s wrong with sparring? Clint wants to hit Loki, and Loki wants to see if Clint can keep up with him. It’s a win-win scenario.”

Yup, it’s official, Tony’s been dumped into crazy-land. Lazy amusement spirals towards him from Loki, and Tony decides to just go with it. He can’t actually stop Loki anyways. He sends a questioning thought towards the god, making sure to cover all his bases. Loki smiles slightly, small and just for Tony. “You know I will take precautions. There is no risk involved and I would hate to deny Barton the chance to hit me. It will be fine.”

“It? So it’s a thing, hm?” Natasha asks Loki, something akin to smugness in her voice.

Loki smirks, an expression that sort of kills Natasha’s momentary triumph. “I have always called it a thing, little spider. You have no more information than before.”

She frowns, probably mentally running through all of their previous conversations. “Damn, you’re right. But this time felt different!” Loki laughs and she pokes him in the side. “I’m still going to win this bet.”

“Believe that if you must,” Loki says with confidence.

Tony is more than officially lost, so he does what any sensible person would do. He worms himself into the space between Loki and the armrest, which means that he mostly ends up in Loki’s lap, and watches the rest of the movie with the assassin duo and his fiancé, the god of mischief and chaos. And fire. How the fuck did his life end up like this?

Loki settles an arm around his waist, and Tony relaxes into his hold after a brief spout of anxiety about putting pressure on the wrong spots of Loki’s body. He has to remind himself that it hasn’t even been two weeks yet, which makes him anxious all over again, thinking about medical scans and preparations and other things.

Loki sighs, his fond exasperation slipping through the bond as he pulls Tony in for a kiss, sending reassurances and confidence through to him. Tony kisses him back, worries temporarily forgotten, and Clint makes gagging noises that are cut off with a yelp a minute later when Natasha pinches him. Tony may not know what exactly he did to end up like this, but he certainly can’t complain.

Later, once the movie is over and all the good little assassins have gone to bed, Tony gets the full story of how his and Loki’s future kid is now the subject of a bet between Loki and Natasha—not that she knows it.

Once he stops laughing, he turns to Loki, abruptly serious. “When are we going to tell them? We can’t hide this forever.”

Loki sighs, playing with the sheet in his hands. “Actually, I can keep this hidden for much longer than you think.”

“But why the secrecy? I mean, we didn’t exactly plan this, but it’s not like we’re unhappy about it.” Tony pauses, searching Loki’s face and prodding gently at his mind. “We are happy about this, right?”

“Unbelievably so,” Loki assures him. “But my children have never been as safe as I would like. I would prefer to keep the pregnancy secret for a while longer.”

“How much longer?”

“Until I can be assured that this child will be safe.” Loki’s voice is quiet, struggling under the weight of something. The sound makes Tony’s heart ache.

“How many children do you have?”

“One.” Loki’s voice is filled with grief. “One surviving daughter. I once had two sons, but they were killed.”

“Why?” The question is out before Tony can stop himself.

For a long while, it looks like Loki isn’t going to answer him. The god is lying in their bed quietly, staring up at the ceiling with so much sadness in his eyes that Tony decides he isn’t going to press the issue. Just as he wiggles down under the covers, making himself comfortable, Loki begins to speak in a voice so quiet, Tony might have missed it even in the silence of their room. “Because of their skin, because of their magic, because of _me._ ”

Loki closes his eyes as tears leak out. His throat works for a second, but no more words come. Tony reaches for his mind to try and take some of the pain away, or if failing at that, to at least share in it. What he gets is a flood of images, memories, pressing at his mind. Tony opens up to them, to the feelings that accompany them, and holds Loki tighter to him in silence as past horrors run through his head.

He sees Loki holding a baby in his arms, fondness turning to alarm as the child’s magic flares and vivid blue tendrils spider-web across its skin. He feels Loki immediately blame the chaotic nature of his own magic and watches as Loki casts a concealment spell on the baby, turning its skin back to normal.

He sees Loki walking through an elaborate garden with a toddler on his heels, another baby in his arms, and the softest of smiles on his face. He feels Loki’s fear when the same thing happens to this baby, sees Loki cast another concealment spell, and sees him deflect the toddler’s interest in his brother with a conjured bird.

He sees Loki with two boys, sitting with them and taking their hands. He sees Loki release the concealment spells, sees the alarm on the boys’ faces, and listens as Loki explains about their magic. He feels Loki’s love for them, and he feels his pain when he explains that they must hide their differences from everyone, including their mother, who is barely tolerant of magic. Their mother, Sigyn, who is more in love with the idea of Prince Loki than with Loki himself. They are both well aware of this, and they keep it hidden from the boys, wanting them to be raised in a loving environment. It is clear, though, that she does not care for the children as much as he does.

Tony sees Loki with a woman who is without a doubt his mother teaching the boys to master their magic. They are both powerful, obviously taking after Loki, and Tony feels Loki’s pride. When they are strong enough, physically and mentally, Loki will not make them hide anymore. He has never taught them to be ashamed of themselves, only wary of others who might not understand.

He feels Loki’s delight when both his sons turn out to be natural shape-shifters. He sees Loki teach them to take the form of a wolf, and he sees Loki join them. Tony watches as a wolf and his nearly adult pups run through a forest, filled with glee as they run and play. Over everything, Tony feels Loki’s love and pride for his sons.

He sees Loki encourage their shape-shifting, watches as Loki’s sons grow more and more mischievous, sees them develop grins much like their father’s, but softer in youth and happiness. He feels Loki’s sadness over Sigyn’s dissatisfaction in their sons.  

He feels Loki’s fear when Sigyn barges in during a delicate procedure where his sons are in a meditative trance, exploring the reaches of their power. The boys, more young men now, are too inexperienced to be distracted now. Tony sees Loki try and tell this to Sigyn, but she does not listen. Tony feels his own horror as well as Loki’s when his wife stabs him with a dagger Loki had not thought to check for. He feels that horror double when she walks over to his sons and slaps the both across the face, screeching about how Loki has poisoned their minds and attempting to rouse them from their trance.

Tony feels Loki’s full-fledged panic and terror as he senses a massive power surge from his sons. Tony feels Loki fall forward, a ragged scream torn from his lips as he tries to help them, as he feels their minds shatter under the force of such unrestrained power in an unprotected state. Their bodies twitch violently as the magic overtakes them. The eldest’s glamor fades, and his blue-streaked body becomes visible. The younger drops into his wolf form, hackles rising as he slowly backs toward his brother.

Tony watches as Loki slowly stands, ignoring the pain in his side, consumed with the need to save his sons in any way possible. If he can just get to them, siphon off some of their magic and force them back into the trance, they can still be saved.

Tony feels raw fury and more fear settle into Tony when Sigyn screams, sending his sons into terrified flight, their consciousness reduced to that of a feral animal by the force of their magic. They bolt from the room and Loki chases after them, sparing no thought for the woman who he had once considered his wife.

Loki hears screams ahead of him, and he doubles his pace, dread settling heavy in his stomach. Tony watches him sprint past the fallen bodies of guards torn apart beyond recognition. He sees Loki sprint into a hall, sees Loki’s eye widen in horror even as his lips desperately form the words that will save his sons.

Tony sees the older boy hack a guard apart, his arm shifted into a crude imitation of an axe, with bone taking the place of metal and fused roughly to his flesh. He sees the sheer terror in the boy’s eyes, understands this to be a twisted and amplified version of fight or flight driven by unchecked magic.

Tony sees the exact moment Loki’s heart shatters.

He sees Odin, the man identified by Loki’s mind, feels the split second of relief turn into mind numbing terror as Odin steps forward, not to assist, though he too knows the words, but with murder in his eye. Tony watches as Odin slaughters Loki’s eldest son. He sees other warriors drag a bloody wolf behind them in chains. Tony feels Loki’s pain and terror as he begs his father for the youngest, to let Loki help him. It takes Tony a second to realize that the wolf is still alive.

Odin turns to Loki, his face filled with disgust. He listens with his own rage when Odin tells Loki that he has done enough, and, with his eye locked on Loki’s, gives his warriors the order to kill. Tears begins to slide down Tony’s face in the physical world as he feels Loki’s pain, his terror, and his desperation. Tony watches as Loki lunges forward only to be pinned to the ground by Odin’s magic. A force invades memory-Loki’s mind, a force Tony realizes with horror is Odin. The magic holding Loki disappears, and revulsion joins Tony’s horror as Odin invades Loki’s mind and uses it to control his body.

Tony feels Odin press responsibility and shame into Loki’s being, hears not-words whisper in Loki’s ear, blaming him for passing his perversion and defects onto his sons. Tony feels Loki’s screams and sobs, locked inside his body by the force of Odin’s mind. Tony sees Loki bound and gagged to silence, forced to watch as Sif steps forward and kills his remaining son. There is no remorse or hesitation on her face, but instead, a hint of satisfaction. He knows then that she volunteered.

Nothing can stop the tears that flow down Loki’s face, nor the pleading in eyes that go dead when the killing blow is struck. Tony watches as Odin and the other warriors leave, dragging the bodies of Loki’s sons unceremoniously behind them.

They are not given proper send-offs. Their bodies are burned twisted together in a heap, and the ashes are scattered to the winds.

Tony feels nothing from Loki.

He sees a dead dullness in eyes that used to sparkle with happiness. Tony bears witness as Loki falls apart with no one to support him. He sees Sigyn scream and rage at Loki, feels a dull spark of hatred surface in the god before it dies under a crushing wall of grief. He sees a tearful Thor try and reason with his brother, trying to convince him to eat something, anything, all the while unaware that his father and friend were the ones to end his nephews’ lives. Loki cannot bear to tell him the truth.

Tony watches as the guards and warriors who were involved in the deaths of Loki’s sons die brutal and ugly deaths, all of which can in no way be blamed on Loki. Tony watches as a piece of Loki becomes twisted, rage and grief erasing the pieces of himself that had been forged in happiness.

Tony sees Loki sob in his mother’s arms, the only place he allows himself to feel. Frigga is in no better state. She had been out riding when it happened. Tony hears her wish that she had been there, that she could have done something. Frigga informs Loki that she has banned Odin from her bed. It only makes Loki feel worse, naming himself a destroyer of families. He doesn’t tell her that. Tony sees Frigga cry with her youngest son, her pain nearly as great as Loki’s as she grieves for her grandchildren.

He sees her send Loki away from Asgard and away from the people and halls that haunt him, hoping beyond hope that he would find some peace. Tony watches as Loki wanders the realms alone, ruled by his grief. The images are blurry, lacking clarity in a way that hurts Tony’s soul. Loki does not care enough to notice much of anything. Tony watches as months turn into years, and years turn into decades, the memories having larger gaps in time, and Tony only knowing how much time has passed through Loki’s feelings.

Finally, over half a century later, Loki returns to Asgard, his signature mask in place. The grief is still there, but Loki has learned to live with it. Loki runs into Sif on his way to his rooms. He smiles at her, eye burning with hatred and insanity. She turns tail and runs, probably to seek the protection of Thor. Loki feels no satisfaction from it.

Tony watches as Frigga, waiting for Loki in his rooms, opens her arms to him, her relief evident on her face. He watches as that relief turns to shock, her eyes locked on Loki’s stomach. He had dropped the illusions he was wearing the minute he stepped into the room, revealing the fact that he is heavily pregnant. Tony watches as Frigga steps forward, eyes filled with tears as she places her hands on Loki’s swollen belly and swears to protect this child with her life. Tony feels some of Loki’s fear diminish and watches as he hugs his mother with trembling hands. Then the memories stop.


	8. For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha ha! On time this week! See? I'm not a total failure :)
> 
> Hello, my lovelies, and welcome to chapter 7. Thank you for everyone who left comments on last week's chapter, I'm so glad you all enjoyed it! You all make my writing that much more fun ♥

Suddenly thrown back into reality and utterly clueless as to how to handle the surge of new information, Tony holds Loki to himself, realizing that he is shaking. They both are, and it takes Tony a long time to gain enough control over himself to speak. In  the meantime, he presses his grief for Loki and his sons through the bond, making sure Loki knows how sorry he is that that happened to him, to them, until their shaking stops.

“I promise that I will protect our kid with everything I’ve got,” Tony swears fiercely. “This won’t happen to you again, I won’t let it. God, I’m so sorry.”

They hold each other until the tears stop, and eventually Loki lets out an exhausted sigh. “Thank you.” He presses his relief of finally confiding in someone through the bond. Tony just kisses away the tears from the corners of Loki’s eyes in response.

They are quiet for a long time after that, until Tony gathers enough courage to ask his next question. “Your daughter, what happened to her?”

Loki inhales and exhales quietly. “Hers is a much happier story. My mother took me to Alfheimr, where her brother, my uncle, rules. There my daughter was born and raised. With lives as long as ours, it made no difference to the others of my family if I stayed hidden for another few decades. I made certain that my daughter knew she was loved and cherished. When she showed signs of having power enough to rival my own, I taught her everything I knew, and when that was not enough, we learned from the fae and the elves together. We traveled in search of new spells, new sources of learning. I never forced her to hide, and I raised her to be proud of her appearance, to be strong, to demand respect rather than wait for it to be given, and she grew into a woman worthy of that respect. By the time she reached adulthood, perhaps around forty years of age, my beautiful Hella had secured herself a throne. She guards the gates to Helheimr and guides spirits to whatever lies beyond.” Loki pauses and smiles, his pride clear on his face. “Though she has not yet told me what that is.

“When I returned to Asgard once more, I did so with my daughter at my side, a queen of the dead, more powerful than Odin, more powerful than any living being. Oh, the pride and satisfaction I felt when the Allfather bowed low to her, forced by convention and hating every second of it. Of course, I was never trusted in court again. During my absence, rumors spread blaming me for the deaths of my sons. They claimed I was training them for my own purposes, that I sacrificed them for my own selfish schemes. Thor and my mother tried to destroy those rumors, but they could only do so much when the king condoned them.”

Loki’s expression goes from bitter to achingly sad once more. “Hella found them, my sons. Their souls were wandering, and she finally brought them peace. I was able to say goodbye, to tell them I loved them one last time. They said they did not blame me.” Silence falls once again. Tony can tell that Loki’s wishing that he could have had more than a final goodbye with his kids.

With nothing else to say and nothing they can really do, they lay side by side until an uneasy sleep claims them.

They don’t talk about it in the morning, and Tony has a feeling Loki likes it better that way. Things that are easy to say in the dead of night are nigh impossible in the light of day.

They spend the day being harassed by Natasha, who seems to have made it her personal mission to ensure their wedding goes off without a hitch. She’s especially ruthless because she only had a week’s warning and is trying to get everything done in five days’ time. DUM·E has been drafted as a photographer in the interest of limiting outside exposure. Tony doesn’t think that the robot will actually know what’s going on, but Natasha assured him that it’s just for the group shot and everything else is going to be taken care of by Steve. Tony doesn’t exactly understand why photographs are necessary, but Natasha ‘assured’ him that he needed photographs with a smile, an expression that prompted Loki to claim her attention with other things so that he will still have a fiancé by the end of the week. Tony absolutely does not feel guilty (which is what he tells himself) that he abandoned Loki to the assassin the first chance he got.

He’s hiding in his lab with Bruce, working on the cloaking device. It’s coming along really well, but Bruce is still against one of them testing it out instead of using it on a dummy, which is halting their progress. They need to check if the cloaking device can keep up with the movements of an actual human being. Since they’re basing their calculations on Loki’s scans and a lot of what they’re doing kind of broke modern physics, the device _should_ totally obscure the person, including things like fingerprints left behind, pieces of dropped hair, dripping blood, and even brain-wave patterns. Basically, it’s an assassin’s wet dream and then some, _and Bruce won’t let him test it._ It’s enough to drive a man crazy, but not crazy enough to leave the safety of the lab for Natasha can pounce on him.

So Tony waits, carefully watching Bruce while having Jarvis run diagnostics and testing simulations with Tony’s physical specifications. Secretly, of course. Beside him, Bruce slowly turns one of the prototypes around in his hands. It looks like a sleek and shiny wristband for a watch with an arc reactor instead of a watch face in the center. The whole thing stands out about as much as a watch would. Currently, they have two completed prototypes, the one Bruce has, and another one wrapped around the leg of a workbench that currently looks like a rock. An oddly flickering rock, like a bad holograph, but a rock all the same. When the image remains stable it even feels like a rock, and Jarvis’ sensors see it as a rock with an odd amount of energy output. In theory, the energy output should be about standard for a living being with a bit of extra talent, which Loki has confirmed is more common than one would think.

Bruce sighs. “I don’t understand why the image isn’t stable. As far as I can tell, our calculations and energy manipulation match Loki’s scans almost perfectly. It shouldn’t be flickering.” Rather than looking upset about this, Bruce just goes through his calculations again, eyes alight with the challenge of it.

Tony frowns and pulls up the scans they’re basing their calculations on and then pulls up the scans they’re taking of the test alongside it. The prototype’s energy output matches the patterns they’re using as a guideline, but underneath it is an unusually dull line that seems to be interfering with the device. Tony stares at it while mentally going through everything Loki’s ever told him about magic. He feels as if the answer’s staring him in the face, but he just can’t figure it out. Sighing, Tony rubs his eyes, pulling up the first few scans he’d taken of Loki all those months ago. He plays Loki’s transformation on a loop, watching as the energy signals seem to complement each other as the illusion settles. Loki transforms himself with such ease, and the stupid brainless desk is just _resisting._  The energy signals don’t match at all.

“Oh!” Epiphany strikes, and Tony hits himself in the head. “Bruce, buddy, for a couple of certified geniuses, we sure are complete idiots.”

Bruce is giving him an amused by curious look, his calculations momentarily forgotten. “What did we miss?”

“That’s a workbench,” Tony says, pointing imperiously at the flickering rock as if all of their problems are solved.

“Yes?”

“Loki isn’t a workbench.”

Bruce takes off his glasses, rubbing at his eyes as he sighs. “Okay, you’re going to have to spell this out for me.”

“The work bench is an inanimate object and Loki isn’t!” Tony exclaims excitedly. “We’ve been using frequencies for a living thing to try and influence an object!”

Understanding dawns on Bruce’s face. He turns back to his calculations with an air of excitement. “So we just have to tweak this?”

“To match the energy output of the workbench while keeping the essence of the illusion,” Tony agrees, reprogramming the prototype with enthusiasm. “If we integrate the changes into the operating system, we can make it so the device can automatically adjust to perfectly suit the energy output of whatever we put it on.”

A small smile breaks out on Bruce’s face. “Assuming that energy signals are as unique as finger prints, that could be exactly what we were missing.”

Tony grins. “I have it on good authority that they are.” He snatches up a prototype and gets to work while Bruce hurries away with his.

A little over an hour later, Bruce puts the prototype back on the workbench and steps back, holding his breath as Tony activates the device. On the screens, Tony sees the scanning sequence activate for half a second before it registers the proper frequencies for the workbench and then turns it into a rock. The readings show that the levels are interacting properly and the illusion isn’t flickering.

“Yes!” Tony crows, running up to the workbench-turned-rock and pushing on it, pleased to see that the illusion is holding. It feels like an honest to god rock.

“There is no longer any unusual energy registering from the rock, sir,” Jarvis informs him crisply, making Tony even happier.

“This is so great, I’m totally going to install this in my suit!”

“We haven’t tested the device on a sentient being yet,” Bruce says, trying to bring Tony back to the realm of reason and ultimately raining on his parade. It doesn’t exactly work.

“No time like the present, Brucie.” Tony holds up his wrist, the second prototype already secured while Bruce was distracted, and activates it.

“Tony—” Bruce starts, alarmed, but cuts himself off, eyes alight with fascination when Tony’s form shimmers and turns into Fury.

The weirdest twitching sensation goes through Tony’s body and he shudders once before the illusion settles. “How do I look?” He asks, except it’s Fury’s voice that comes out. Which is fucking cool. “I look like a half-blind grumpy ass mother fucker, eh Brucie?” 

Bruce’s mouth twists into a half-smile half-grimace. “Don’t call me that in his voice, please.” He walks around Tony in a circle, looking incredibly impressed. The device is hidden in this form, but Tony can still feel it. He doesn’t know if that holds true for Bruce. “What about your arc reactor?” Bruce asks. “I thought it was magic resistant.”

Tony frowns, distorting Fury’s face into a nasty scowl, and opens the weird leather coat the device dressed him in. The bright light of his arc reactor shines through his shirt. “Huh. I guess it is.”

“What in the world are you doing?”

Bruce jumps and Tony whirls around, deactivating the device and shifting back into himself to face Loki, who has suddenly appeared in the lab. “When’d you get down here?”

“Just now. I felt the strangest thing. What are you doing?”

Tony grins and gestures to the screens and lone rock in the lab. “Remember that cloaking device I told you about?”

“Barely.” Loki walks over to the computers and starts looking through the scans, his frown replaced by a look of amazement when he gets a look at the readings, as well as a video of the transformation. He looks at the rock intently and then lets a wry grin color his face. “I cannot detect anything other than a rock. In fact, if I was not so attuned to the humming of your arc reactor, I would have believed you were actually Fury.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Activate the device again.” Tony does, shuddering through the transformation. Loki, he notices, shudders slightly as well, and then he looks fascinated. “That sensation is the magic warping itself around your arc reactor and adjusting accordingly. Congratulations, you are the first beings to achieve shape-shifting through technological means.”

“Shape-shifting?” Tony burst out, returning to his own form. “I thought this was an illusion?”

Both of Loki’s eyebrows fly up in shock. “You achieved this _accidentally_?” And did you not pay attention to anything I have told you? Illusions are incorporeal. They would not change your voice, nor would they bypass the arc reactor. How did you manage to attune the device to your signature?”

“It’s adaptive,” Bruce informs him, voice slightly smug.

“It is _what_?” Loki looks completely dumbstruck. “Explain.”

Suddenly nervous and praying he hasn’t broken some unspoken rule of magic, Tony walks Loki through the programming of the device and shows him the algorithms and calculations that allow it to adapt to any signature. By the end of Tony’s explanation, Loki is leaning against a workbench, thoughtfully tapping his fingers against his stomach. Then a grin spreads across his face and he shakes his head ruefully. “On Asgard, it is not impossible to purchase a charm that can allow shape-shifting, though no one has ever managed to create one that can adapt to other energy signatures or provide more than one shape. I am included in thins. Congratulations Tony, Dr. Banner. You have just out-thought sorcerers with millennia of experience.”

Tony can’t quite believe his ears. “Seriously, you never figured out how?”

Loki shakes his head and then holds out his hand for the device. “May I?” Tony hands it over and Loki pokes at it a bit before he slips it on and activates it.

Tony is then faced with the uncomfortable sensation of looking himself in the face. “Really? Me?”

Loki chuckles, the sound odd coming from his own throat. “Do not think of it overmuch. My interest was in the arc reactor,” he looks down on his chest, “which I do not have.”

Tony leans forward with interest, examining Loki’s (his) chest. “Huh. You don’t.”

“Fascinating, is it not?” Loki asks, grinning at Tony with a clearly Loki expression but on the wrong face.

“Yes, that’s really interesting,” Bruce agrees, “but can you turn back into yourself? You’re freaking me out.”

The gods smirks and complies, deactivating the device and slipping it off his wrist. “It seems you are not so easily duplicated.”

Tony chuckles. “I could’ve told you that myself. Oh hey, how’d you shake Natasha?” He asks, suddenly remembering the other reason he’s sequestered away in his lab.

Loki shrugs. “I gave her free reign over everything on the condition that it be kept private and the guest list be limited to people she knows we would approve.”

Tony nods approvingly. “Smart move. Want to science with us?”

Loki quirks his brow at Tony’s words but joins in anyways. Bruce is uncomfortable at first, but it soon fades in the face of scientific discovery. After a while, Tony sits back and just watches Loki and Bruce bicker about a certain part of the calculations, any sort of past forgotten. Loki is trying to recreate their process with magic rather than machinery, but he’s stumped on the adaptive part. Magic, apparently, is not as accommodating as technology. It’s a good way to spend the afternoon.

When evening comes around and grumbling stomachs make themselves known, the trio cautiously makes their way to the common floor after ordering in food. They find Natasha sitting on a couch calmly telling someone over the phone that their restaurant is now closed for a private occasion on Saturday night. She pauses as the guy on the phone says something, then her expression shifts into terror inspiring determination, and Tony hears his name being thrown around like some sort of threat. He feels really bad for the guy on the phone. Needless to say, the three of them slink past her as unobtrusively as possible and take shelter in the kitchen with Steve and Clint.

Tony takes one look at the shell-shocked expression on Steve’s face and claps a hand on his shoulder in sympathy. “She took you shopping, didn’t she?”

“How can anyone spend that much money on clothes?” Steve mumbles, shaking his head in dismay.

Clint cackles from his chair. “It was hilarious! And then the assistant got all handsy with his and Steve had no idea what to do!”

Tony chuckles. “What, no new suit for you, birdbrain?”

The archer shrugs. “I’ve got some nice ones that I have on hand for under cover missions, so I only went to watch.”

“That’s evil. Did you film it?”

“Yeah, but Nat took my phone away. I think she deleted it.”

“Thank God,” Steve sighs, wiping his hands down his face.

“You are welcome,” Loki says seriously, the open fridge door blocking the grin Tony knows is spread across his face. “Though I had nothing to do with it.” He steps back from the fridge, apple in hand, to Tony’s laughter and Steve’s reluctantly amused face.

From across the room, Clint sighs and Tony has a brief second of foreboding. “Is that the best you can do?” He challenges. Tony sees the tentative peace they’ve created fly out the window. “We’re all jokers here. Think you can join in?” Loki smirks before taking a deliberate bite of his apple, seemingly ignoring the challenge. But Tony sees the look in his eye and slumps against Steve with a sigh of defeat. No peace. Clint’s chair disappears from beneath him with no sign of movement from the god, and the assassin hits the ground spluttering.

Loki snickers and Bruce steps in before things can escalate, outlining clear rules and stressing the importance of keeping this display of lunacy between themselves. Loki looks like he’s torn between laughing and seriously agreeing to Bruce’s orders, having no desire to face off with the Hulk in his current condition.

Natasha slips into the kitchen sometime during Bruce’s lecture, a terrifyingly smug expression on her face. Tony assumes she succeeded in booking the restaurant. The food arrives soon after, and they eat dinner standing around in the kitchen, all trying to talk over each other. In moments like these, Thor’s absence is especially apparent. Tony realizes that he never asked Loki where the thunderer went off to. “Hey, Lo, where’s Thor?” Conversation dies around the room.

“He’s on Asgard reporting to the Allfather,” Loki answers calmly, picking at his food.

“So they know you’re here now?” Steve’s voice is a mix of alarm and concern, but Loki just waves his hand.

“They’ve been aware of my presence on Midgard since Tony’s… accident.”

“Wait, so how come you’re still here?” Everyone turns to Clint with various _are you serious_ expressions. He quickly holds up his hands in a placating gesture as he rushes to explain. “I meant, why haven’t they shown up to at least demand you or something. Mighty race of gods and all that, might want to get their prisoner back.”

Tony huffs. “Smooth, Barton.”

Loki looks amused. “They probably would, if they knew where I was. There is an energy field around this place keeping my location hidden, and when I leave I shield myself so that none can see me.”

“Except that night in the hospital,” Natasha says, eyes curiously calculating.

Loki nods in agreement. “I did not have power to spare for hiding myself. So, the Allfather knows I am here, but Midgard is a large planet. They cannot send forces to look for me, so they wait for a solid lead.” His mouth quirks in a small grin. “Recapturing escaped prisoners used to fall under _my_ list of duties. Odin will not chase after rumors. He will only act on Thor’s words, and it is likely Thor and his friends will be sent to apprehend me if Odin ever finds where I am. I am sure you are all aware that Thor will do no such thing. I am safe, for the time being.”

“Uh, I hate to break it to you, but Thor can’t lie,” Bruce says reluctantly. “I caught him eating my sandwich once and the attempts were just plain sad.”

Loki chuckles. “I am well aware, believe me.” Then he abruptly sobers up. “Thor will be telling his own version of the truth, which will achieve the same end.”

“The truth is the best lie of all,” Natasha says, nodding in confirmation. Loki shoots her a grin and Tony tries not to be afraid of how close the two have become. He sort of succeeds.

The next morning, Tony is slammed into awareness by the alarms going off throughout the tower. He swears, jumping up and running for some clothes. He’s shocked when Loki leaps out of bed and races after him. It doesn’t take long for Tony to figure out why. “No, no way. You’re going to stay here!”

Loki just gives him a look. “I will not send you out alone, especially after what happened the last time.”

“No!” Tony makes a vicious slashing motion with his hand. “What about the kid? I could barely stay calm when we were sparring, and I am not letting you out in a full-blown firefight! Whatever it is we’re going towards, they’re going to be trying to kill us.”

“I know that!” Loki snaps. “I will maintain a safe distance and I will protect myself and the child especially, but I will not sit here useless while you go off to fight!” Loki’s eyes are glittering with determination. Feelings press themselves through the bond, the most prominent being a need to protect what Loki considers his. Tony isn’t really surprised that Loki’s definition of ‘his stuff’ has spread to encompass the entire city.

“They’ll recognize you the minute you start using magic,” Tony says, more as a last attempt than anything. Instead of responding, Loki shifts into a white-blond haired man with elongated ears and forest-green markings decorating his face and framing his eyes. Tony is sort of put out to find that Loki is even taller in this form. To Tony, Loki still looks like himself, only slightly different, but he knows that to the public Loki will be completely unrecognizable. He sighs, shoulder slumping as he finishes getting dressed. “Fine. But I swear, Lo, if anything happens to you or the kid—”

“We will be fine, I will ensure it for you.” Loki assures him, voice lilting in an odd but not unpleasant accent.

Tony’s curiosity is peaked, but they’ve wasted enough time already. He calls his suit to him and flies out while Loki summons some sort of scaled armor in a brilliant silver that falls over a pair of brown leather trousers and boots that look as if they wouldn’t make any noise while he’s walking even if he wants them to.

While he’s flying towards the meeting point, Tony gives in to some of his curiosity and has Jarvis show him footage of Loki from the tower’s cameras. He watches as Loki steps up to the open window, considers the drop, and then leaps gracefully, flying outwards and then jumping again on a suddenly conjured green cloud. Shocked and completely amazed, Tony almost doesn’t hear the comms crackling to life as he stops and turns around, watching Loki leap through the sky over New York. He wonders how much energy that takes. “Barely any at all,” Loki’s voice whispers inside his helmet.

Tony starts, eyes going wide. “Lo?” Over the comms he hears the others say similar things.

“Wait, is that _Loki_ jumping through the sky? And how is he on our comms? Tony did you give him a unit?” Steve’s voice goes from amazed to Captain America, analyzing the situation.

“No,” Loki answers for him, “I am tapping into them on my own. Yes, this is me. I have decided to help.”

Then they arrive at the meet up point and Clint whistles, walking over to Loki. “Nice disguise, elf man, I almost didn’t recognize you. But what’s with the markings? And also, I’m Legolas, you can choose someone else.”

“This is what elves actually look like,” Loki says condescendingly. “And I look nothing like Legolas.” Then he smiles, showing off teeth that don’t look quite right.

“Holy shit, are those pointed?” Tony steps in closer to look.

“Slightly.”

“Can we focus please?” Steve yells, completely Captain America right now. When he gets sheepish agreement from Tony and Clint, he turns to Loki. “You’re serious about helping?”

“Yes.”

“Good, we can use you. It’s Doom Bots again, they seem like they’re the same as last time. Honestly I don’t know why Richards and his bunch can’t keep him away from our end.” He sighs and then shakes his head. “Anyways, can you scan them or something, tell us what we’re up against?”

Loki nods. “Easily.”

“Alright, then go, fast, and get back here as quickly as you can. Widow, Hawkeye, start evacuations. Tony, go with Loki as back up.” He pauses in his instructions and frowns. “You need a code name. S.H.I.E.L.D. likes to monitor our frequencies. We can’t have them jumping into the fray and trying to capture you in all the confusion.”

Tony huffs. “Now’s not exactly the time for coming up with nicknames, Steve. I thought this was a time sensitive sort of thing?”

“Then let’s just call him Fray and be done with it,” Natasha cuts in. “Now _go_!” The matter apparently decided, the team scatters to their various positions, leaving Steve and Bruce at the meet up point.

Tony has Jarvis bring up the same safety parameters as before and shares the distances with Loki. Fortunately, the god has a much larger range. He manages to get a read on the bots fairly quickly, and his eyes narrow. “These bots are extremely similar to what you have described to me,” he pauses, making Tony nervous. “Their sensors and detonation systems are run with magic, but of a very crude sort. The signature is mixed, something organic and weak mixed with something else. My guess is that a Midgardian sorcerer is using an artefact of some sort to increase his power, but the spells are weak. He does not have a good grasp on them.”

And that explains why Tony couldn’t get a definite read on the energy before. “Jarvis, switch to mojo scanners.”

“Can you do anything to cancel his magic?” Steve asks desperately, hearing the explanation over the comms and remembering how devastating the bots were last time.

“I can block the magic from them,” Loki says tersely, “but they will still need to be taken care of in your usual way. Their creator will not know what I have done.”

“Do it,” Steve orders. Loki finds a rooftop where he has a clear view of most of the bots and sets down on it.

Tony lands next to him and flips up his visor. “How much energy is this going to take?”

“Not as much as you think and a bit more than I would prefer,” the god answers, closing his eyes in concentration and reaching his arms out. The air around him shimmers slightly, making Loki look even more like an ethereal being. Tony tears his eyes away from the sight and stands guard, protecting Loki while he does his thing. A couple of bots try and fly towards them, but Tony takes care of them long before they can get close enough to be a serious threat.

A few minutes later, he hears Loki release a shuddering breath. He turns just in time to catch the god as he slumps over. “It is done,” he rasps, and over the comms Steve starts ordering the others into a flurry of activity.

“Jesus, Lo, how much did you use?”

“More than I would’ve liked,” Loki answers, standing up under his own steam. He takes a deep breath and goes to rejoin the fight, as per Steve’s orders. “And for the time being, my name is Fray.” His lips twitch into a fraction of a smile when he says the name.

Tony looks at him skeptically. “You sure you’re okay, elf boy?”

“Perfectly fine, you idiot in a tin can. Now, shall we?”

“Tch, rude,” Tony responds, trying not to laugh. Clint isn’t putting in as much effort, and Tony can hear him snickering over the comms. When the civilians Clint’s evacuating must think is beyond him. Loki just sighs and leaps into the air, pulling wicked-looking twin daggers out of nowhere.

Watching Loki fight is like watching a deadly dance. No movement is wasted, and Loki himself is all lethal grace. Tony isn’t the only one who keeps getting distracted and pausing to stare. Loki’s just extremely captivating and extremely hard to ignore. Every slash of his blades brings a horrible screeching noise and the sound of tearing metal. Tony knows that he doesn’t necessarily need to make that much noise, but the god seems to be having a bit of fun. There’s a gleam to his eyes and Tony’s caught him laughing more than once. It’s Loki that destroys the last bot, and Tony can’t help but crack a smile. “Nice work, Fray.”

Loki grins. “This was good exercise.”

Steve walks up shaking his head. “Were you even trying when you invaded us? And what’s with the accent?”

“No, I had no desire to win that fight. And this accent is unique to central regions of Alfheimr. It is part of my disguise,” Loki informs him crisply, giving his weapons a cursory once-over before tucking them away from wherever the hell he got them in the first place.

“Sir, Agent Coulson is on the line,” Jarvis announces from inside the suit.

“Put him through.”

“Stark?”

“Hey, Phil, what’s up?”

“Just calling to see if we can send in our cleanup crews. I usually contact Steve but he’s not picking up,” Coulson explains.

Tony glances over at Steve’s ears, and yup, they’re empty again. “Cap, you’ve seriously got to stop losing your comm units.”

“Sorry,” Steve says sheepishly.

Tony just sighs. “Yeah, Phil, you’re good to go, we’re done here.”

“Great.” The Coulson pauses. “So who’s the guy that walks on air?”

“That’s Fray, an elf on loan from Alfheimr,” Tony lies, unsure of how much he can reveal to Coulson over the comms. “Stop by after clean-up and you can meet him.”

“Sure. See you later.”

Then the call ends and Tony turns to the others. “Home?” They all echo their agreement and somebody puts in a call for pizza on the way there. Loki refuses the offered food and makes himself some delicious-smelling soup while Natasha teases him for being picky and everyone else tries to get over the shock of someone hating pizza.

Loki falls asleep at the table that night, amusing Clint to no end. “He’s out cold!”

“Of course he is, do you have any idea how much energy he probably used today?” Bruce sounds fascinated by his own theory.

Tony just chuckles. “I think he just knows that you guys aren’t going to kill him so he drifted off. He falls asleep on everything when it’s just us.”

‘Well that’s…” Steve’s voice trails off as he stares at the sleeping god. “That’s kind of sad, actually.”

Natasha just shrugs. “When you live in the shadows, that’s just how it is.”

“Yup,” Clint agrees. “Now someone go get a marker.”

Tony sighs and shakes his head. “That is the mother of bad ideas, birdbrain.” Clint sticks out his tongue at Tony, who doesn’t bother responding. Instead, he calls his suit to him and gathers the sleeping god in his arms, taking him upstairs to bed.


	9. Bare My Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... Late again... I know, I'm despicable. I suck. Keeping schedules is hard in the summer. 
> 
> Anyways... Hello again, my lovely readers! So sorry for being late! I've been distracted by plans for a PANIC! At The Disco concert. Please enjoy this week's chapter!

Loki wakes up well rested and relaxed. There are no angry archers, no nagging assassins, and no wailing alarms. In fact, there is nothing that requires Loki to get out of bed, so he sighs happily and snuggles closer to the human sleeping next to him. Tony responds by tightening his hold on the god and shifting his hand so that his fingers are splayed over Loki’s abdomen. Loki sighs again, allowing himself to relax into the promise of a good morning.

When Tony finally wakes up, he takes Loki’s good morning and turns it into a great morning. Grinning playfully, the first thing Tony does is kiss Loki within an inch of his life, and then flops on his back, pulling the god on top of him. Loki has no problem with this, so he humors Tony, pretending to play along, and then proceeds to wipe that grin off of his face. Unsurprisingly, it does not take much to have Tony moaning underneath him, but Loki puts forth his best efforts all the same. The results are particularly enjoyable.

The rest of the day follows an easy pattern, and everyone but Romanov and Thor laze around together on the common floor cracking jokes about their new elf companion and getting a kick out of the crazy tabloid speculations as to who this new Avenger is. Agent Coulson stops by later in the day, as he had been unable to the night before, and Loki enjoys telling him about Fray, who is ‘unavailable’ at the moment.

Somebody suggests watching _Star Trek,_ and Loki looks on with amusement as Tony agree enthusiastically and goes on to start a fight with Barton and Agent Coulson in an attempt to decide which one to watch first. Barton is arguing for beginning with what he calls the reboot, but Tony and Coulson are passionately defending the original series. Surprisingly, it is Banner that puts an end to the debate, deciding that they will start with the reboot and then ease Loki into the original series. Loki has no idea why he has to be eased into anything and is equal parts amused and apprehensive as a result.

“Who does a better Spock, Leonard Nimoy or Zachary Quinto?” Barton asks the room at large when someone Tony calls ‘Spock Prime’ makes an appearance on screen.

“Leonard Nimoy, obviously,” Tony answers without hesitation.

Coulson looks thoughtful for a moment. “I like them both.” Most everyone seems to agree, excepting Romanov.

“I think Quinto is way more ‘Vulcan’.”

Loki, having figured out basic Vulcan principles at this point, agrees with her view but does not voice his opinion as he has yet to watch the original series. “You just think this one is more attractive,” he teases instead as Romanov smirks.

“He’s just adorable, isn’t he?”

Loki agrees and Tony gets huffy for a moment, much to everyone’s amusement. In an effort to cease his grumbling, Loki asks about the physics in the film, sparking a mocking session that both Banner and Tony enthusiastically participate in. That is, until Loki informs them about the many space ships he has been on and starts detailing their very real warp core engines. This prompts a round of excited scientific babbling that annoys Romanov to the point of threatening dismemberment if Banner and Tony do not watch the movie in silence. Loki leans back with a grin, thoroughly enjoying his day.

Later that evening, when it is deemed an appropriate time for sleep, the group disperses to their various floors. Agent Coulson requests permission to stay that night as well as the next night so that he can lend his assistance with the wedding preparations. He also mentions avoiding Fury so that S.H.I.E.L.D. remains unaware of their planes. No one, he reasons, wants special agents crashing their wedding. Loki is impressed by his forethought and grants the permission while Tony mentions a spare bedroom on Rogers’ floor. Loki has never seen the agent look happier and laughs through Tony’s explanation of Agent Coulson’s ‘fanboy’ behavior. All in all, it is a day well spent and Loki relaxes into bed feeling utterly content.

****

Tony is woken up in the extremely early hours of the morning by Loki thrashing around in the bed. Sweat covers the god’s forehead, matting in his hair as he twists and turns in his sleep. “Lo? Hey, Lo, wake up.” Tony reaches out to gently shake the god’s arm and is horribly shocked when he reacts violently. Loki’s eyes fly open and he rockets up, a vicious snarl twisting his mouth as he grabs Tony and flings him out of the bed. Tony lands on the floor hard, all of the breath whooshing out of his lungs and leaving him gasping for air.

Loki surges out of the bed, every inch a predator, and stalks towards Tony with wide, unseeing eyes. “Loki,” Tony gasps out, “Lo, it’s me, it’s Tony!” The god doesn’t appear to hear him. He walks up to Tony and grabs his throat, lifting him up. There isn’t a hint of recognition in Loki’s gaze. Tony grabs onto Loki’s wrist and tries to hold himself up as he desperately reaches for Loki’s mind.

What he finds worries him more than his current predicament.

A haze of terror and hatred is swirling over Loki’s consciousness. Tony can tell without a doubt that Loki is still asleep, held back from waking up by _something._ He doesn’t really have the time to speculate about that, though. Hoping with everything he has that this is going to work, Tony focuses his mind on the haze and smashes against it in an attempt to free Loki’s mind. He doesn’t expect the stuff to gather itself and attack back, but that’s exactly what it does. Tony immediately shields himself so that the stuff can’t touch him and attacks again, layering the press with his fury and fear for Loki.

Black dots are beginning to dance across his eyes, and so Tony doubles his efforts. With one final shove, the stuff covering Loki’s mind shatters, leaving Tony with the double impression of an elastic band snapping after it’s been stretched to its limits and a pane of glass being smashed to bits. Mental impressions are strange like that.

Loki lets out a strangled gasp, awareness lighting up his eyes. His hand snaps open and Tony falls to the floor a second time, coughing and gasping in the blessed air. Loki’s face twists in horror as he realizes what he’s done, and he stumbles backwards, sitting down heavily on the bed, chest heaving, with his eyes fixed on Tony.

“Loki,” Tony coughs, and the god tenses, ready to bolt. No way in hell is Tony letting Loki run away to be alone now, so he stands up slowly, putting his hands out in front of him. “Hey, Lo, calm down, I’m okay. We’re both okay,” Tony says reassuringly, ignoring the raspy quality of his voice. As if Tony’s voice is the final key, Loki snaps out of his horrified stupor. A choked sob escapes the god’s throat and he scuttles backwards, away from Tony and towards the head of the bed.

A horrendous feeling of guilt worms its way through the bond, making Tony wince. He edges away from the door behind him, making sure Loki sees he has a clear path of escape, and slowly makes his way towards the god. The last thing he wants is to make Loki feel trapped. “Lo,” he tries again, “we’re good. It was not your fault. I saw what was in your head, I know it wasn’t you.” As he talks, he slowly approaches Loki, who looks like he’s falling apart.

“I almost killed you,” he whispers, unable to add any volume to his voice.

“You didn’t,” Tony says reassuringly. “You were fighting whatever it was too. We took care of it together, and we’re both okay.” He reaches the edge of the bed and sits down, not moving any closer when Loki flinches away from him.

“I do not remember that. I remember the terror, the touch of a mind that was not yours, and I remember choking you,” he finishes quietly.

“I felt it,” Tony says determinedly. “I could feel you trying to wake up. Whoever the fuck it was in your mind was stopping that from happening.”

“You are certain?” Loki asks hesitantly, hovering on the edge, still horrified at himself but willing to listen to Tony’s words.

“Absolutely,” Tony confirms, opening his mind to Loki so that the god can experience the whole thing from his perspective. He makes sure that Loki knows he doesn’t give a shit about the strangling, that he’s more concerned about Loki.

The god sighs and rubs his hand over his face, finally closing the distance between them on the bed. Tony lets Loki wrap his arms around him and hold him close, ignoring the way Loki is shaking. They stay like that long enough for a dull ache to settle in Tony’s throat, and then the temperature in the room drops. Tony feels Loki ripple as the arms around him turn a vivid blue. Loki hisses as Tony’s warm skin presses against his, and then blue fingers brush along Tony’s throat, healing the ache. Tony sighs in relief, glad to be free of the pain. “Thanks.”

Loki’s only response is to bury his face in the crook of Tony’s neck. Tony shivers and wiggles around a bit, doing his best to wrap them in blankets. Soon Loki is shuddering from the warmth around him, and Tony twists around in concern, meeting sad red eyes. “Lo, I love your blue skin, but if this is some twisted form of self-punishment you can cut it out right now.”

“This does not hurt.” Loki pauses, closing his eyes. “But it does let me feel you even more so than normal. Every bit of your skin that is pressed against mine is impossible to ignore, and your _scent_ ,” he leans in and drags his nose along Tony’s neck. “I can smell your vitality, I can smell the adrenaline in your blood, and I can smell myself all over you.” He shudders again.

Tony takes a peek into his mind and is bombarded by a wall of sensory overload. “Ah,” he gasps, and then retreats back into his own head. “Why are you doing that?”

“Jotuns take mates,” Loki informs him, nuzzling Tony’s ear. “It would seem that I am no different. It is mate-magic that allows me to heal you. I know this, though I did not have this knowledge before I met you, nor did I have it before I have been around you in this form once we have enacted the bond.”

“So it’s instinctual?” Tony supplies, curious about where Loki’s going with this.

“Of a sort,” Loki agrees. “All my senses are telling me that you are my mate, I and have injured you. I needed… I _need_ to feel you like this.” Tony nods and snuggles into Loki, not at all bothered by the temperature. Loki sighs and runs his hands over Tony, lulling him back into a light sleep.

When Tony wakes up for the second time that morning, the first thing he notices is that he’s tightly cocooned in blankets, and the second thing he notices is that Loki’s still blue. “You okay, Reindeer Games?” As far as Tony’s aware, Loki’s never stayed in this form for very long.

Loki shrugs. “I feel as if I am safer like this, and I have long since learned not to ignore such feelings.”

“Fair point,” Tony concedes, and then makes sure Jarvis lowers the temperature on the floor while Loki isn’t paying attention. He’d rather throw on an extra layer or two than have Loki be completely uncomfortable.

Clothes, Tony learns, are uncomfortable for Loki in this form, so the god ends up strutting around in a pair of black silk boxers and nothing else. Tony decides he likes this and spends a lot of time stroking Loki’s bare skin until the god snaps and presses him against the couch, his pupils blown wide and looking especially striking against the red. He kisses Tony thoroughly, gasping and moaning as he ruts against him, but stops abruptly, pulling back. “Stop this,” he demands, panting and trying to look disapproving but utterly failing in his attempt.

“I don’t see why I should,” Tony challenges, pressing his hips up against Loki’s.

The god gasps and then growls. “I will not fuck you in this form.”

“Why not? I think I’d enjoy it.”

Loki shudders and then reluctantly climbs off of Tony. “It would be too much.”

Tony sighs, deflating against the couch. “Damn.” He can’t really argue with that.

Loki looks at him contemplatively. “Perhaps we can do something else.”

Tony perks up. “Like?”

“Oh, this and that,” Loki says mischievously before he drops to his knees in front of Tony.

“I knew I was marrying you for more than just your good looks.”

Loki just snickers and then takes Tony into his mouth, moaning as he does it. Tony can’t hold back a groan as Loki shares his sensations with him. Jotuns apparently have much more sensitive taste buds, and their sense of smell is overwhelming. Over everything, Tony gets the impression of _my mate,_ which only makes it better. The only down side is that Loki has to take care of himself, much too sensitive for the heat of Tony’s skin.

Tony watches, though, from his spot on the couch, pleasantly spent, as Loki kneels in front of him with his legs spread and everything on display. Tony does with his eyes what he can’t with his hands, passing along everything he wants to do through the bond. Loki comes with a cry, his hips arching forward as his shoulders lean back. Tony hopes he never forgets the image.

The rest of the day is spent tangled on the couch, Loki nosing through a book and Tony working on his tablet. “Sirs,” Jarvis calls, sometime around seven, “Agent Romanov and Captain Rogers are requesting your presence for dinner.”

Tony sets down his tablet and looks over at Loki. “Not tonight, Jarvis. Make some sort of excuse—”

“Not necessary,” Loki says, cutting him off. “Please inform them that we will be down presently.”

“Of course, sir.”

Tony gives Loki a sidelong look. “Since when are you ‘sir’?”

Loki snorts. “Since Jarvis has started helping Romanov plan our wedding.”

“Right. I feel like I should’ve noticed that sooner.”

Loki gives him a half-smile and brushes his lips against Tony’s temple. “You have been busy.” Then he untangles himself from Tony and walks over to their room, returning with a pair of extremely soft sweat pants, shirtless and still blue.

“You okay going down like this?”

Loki hesitates for a second but then adapts a look of determination. “Yes,” he says firmly, then looks at his hands. “This form is unknown here, there is no reason to hide. I am hungry and I am still unwilling to change back.”

Tony grins. “Then let’s go.”

The minute they step into the kitchen, all conversation stops. Loki walks over to the fridge like nothing’s different and gets himself something to drink. Tony walks up beside him and slings a possessive arm over the god’s shoulder and then presses a kiss to the corner of his lips. Then he turns to Steve. “What are we having tonight, Cap?”

“Stir fry,” Steve answers without taking his eyes away from Loki. His fingers are twitching as if he’s dying for art supplies that aren’t there. “Am I allowed to ask or is this one of those ‘just carry on’ type of things?”

Tony feels the curl of unease in Loki’s mind, but outwardly the god snorts at Steve’s question. “Thor mentioned I was adopted, did he not? This is the skin I was born with.”

“Wow. This might sound weird, coming from me, but you look really cool. What are those lines? Are they scars? Can I draw you?”

Loki raises his eyebrow at Steve’s questions, showing only a fraction of the shock Tony can feel through the bond. “I am not sure what my markings are for, but they are not scars,” he answers carefully, ignoring the rest of the questions.

“Why is it so cold around you?” Clint asks curiously, looking as fascinated as Steve.

“Frost Giant,” Loki and Natasha respond at the exact same time.

Loki gives her a look. “Thor told you.”

“He didn’t mean to.”

Loki huffs a laugh. “You insufferable woman.” She smiles cheekily.

“You’re made of ice?” Clint asks, looking incredulous.

He reaches out to poke Loki’s arm, but Tony bats his hand away in a fit of possessiveness. “No touching, Katniss.”

“I just want to see what he feels like,” Clint whines.

_“No touching_ ,” Tony repeats firmly, his voice almost a growl. The archer huffs but holds his hands up in surrender and backs away. Once Clint is a sufficient distance, Tony scrunches his face in confusion and turns to Loki. “Mate thing?”

“It would seem so,” Loki agrees before he turns back to Clint. “I am not made of ice. This body is ruled by elemental magic that favors ice and cold.”

“Oh. Elemental magic sounds kick-ass.”

Loki can’t even begin to hide the amusement Clint’s comment garners in him. “It has its uses.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be tall?” Steve interrupts suddenly. “I mean, you’re pretty tall by our standards but…” He trails off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

“I am a runt,” Loki responds bluntly.

“So you and Tony really _were_ made for each other,” Natasha teases.

Loki snickers and then covers his mouth when Tony makes an indignant noise. “I am not short, dammit!”

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” Clint says laughingly, ducking away from Tony’s half-hearted attempt at flicking him. Natasha does it for him, and Clint yelps.

“Why do you sound different?” Bruce inquires. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Because I am different. The entire biological makeup of this body is unique to this race, though it may seem similar to what I usually am. Different vocal chords, different type of blood, different senses, even a differently shaped and functioning mind,” he explains, looking mildly uncomfortable about it.

Bruce picks up on that. “Sounds like the other guy. Different, but fundamentally the same.”

“The ‘other guy’ is what you call your monster?”

“I don’t like giving him a name,” Bruce responds quietly.

Loki inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Sometimes you might have to. My experiences have taught me that no monster is ever what it seems to be.”

Loki’s words hold the weight of knowledge, and they sit heavily on the room until Bruce cracks a small smile. “I think I’m beginning to see that. Any particular reason why you let your monster out tonight?”

“Oh, this and that,” Loki responds cryptically. It’s then that everyone decides that they’ve questioned him enough, and they let the matter rest. Tony decides to count today’s dinner as a victory.

The team hangs around in the kitchen for a bit, obviously waiting for something, and a quick inquiry on Tony’s part reveals that they’re waiting for Coulson; Tony had completely forgotten that he’s staying at the tower. Loki tenses up all over again when the agent finally shows up, but Coulson doesn’t even bat an eyelash at him. “Sorry I took so long, I had to deflect a call from Fury.”

Clint winces in sympathy. “Was he angry?”

“Furious,” Coulson responds, deadpan.

Loki laughs, the tension falling from his shoulders. “Perhaps he has not seen all the advantages of having an agent inside enemy lines,” he suggests.

Coulson smiles, his smile hovering around the edges of calming and extremely frightening. “I might have enlightened him about that.” He fishes a digital camera out of his pocket and wiggles it. “I’m officially on surveillance. Maria wants pictures of the wedding.”

“She knows?” Tony asks, concerned.

Coulson nods, seemingly unperturbed. “Most of S.H.I.E.L.D. knows. At least, everyone who knows that Loki’s back on earth. They just don’t know when it’s going to happen.”

Tony honestly can’t say he’s all that surprised. It’s not like they were hiding the news. “Wait, Hill wants pictures?” Tony asks with a frown.

Coulson just sighs. “She does. She thinks this whole thing is amazing, actually, and it’s not like she hates you.”

Steve looks confused. “But then why doesn’t she just leave S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Loyalty,” Loki supplies before Coulson can answer. “The director holds her loyalty, and most likely knows not to let her personal feelings impair her work judgment. Do not forget that Director Fury is perfectly justified in his opinion of me and that his goals are completely reasonable. Agent Hill is in a delicate position.”

“He’s right,” Natasha agrees. “Fury doesn’t know him like we do, and explaining your connection to him is frankly an extremely stupid idea. He’s just doing his job and Loki is a threat.” She shrugs. “So are we, if we step out of line.”

“But this is a different situation,” Tony insists.

Clint sighs. “Is it? It took me years of work to get myself back into their good graces after I defied my orders, and I’m pretty sure it only worked so well because Nat turned out to be an excellent asset. Obviously, it’s not going to be as easy with Loki since he actually declared himself an enemy and all that.”

Everyone goes quiet for a second, thinking about that. They can handle the surveillance, but it’s the fucking hostility and naked threats S.H.I.E.L.D. poses that no one wants to deal with. If only there was a way to lure Fury into thinking that Loki has something to offer. Tony’s thoughts must have leaked over to Loki, because the god looks up with a glimmer of an idea in his eyes. “Have you made your report of Fray assistance yet?”

“Not yet,” Coulson answers, obviously intrigued. “I still haven’t gotten a full explanation about that. How did you manage to find an elf?”

Tony shrugs. “I know a guy.”

Loki flicks him. “You certainly do.” Coulson’s eyes flash with realization and he looks at Loki, impressed despite himself. Loki nods, in case there was any doubt, a faint impression of a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Perhaps,” he begins, the air around him taking on a mischievous feel, “it would be best to hint at the possible alliance between the director and this new figure, potentially securing an even more valuable alliance with the realm he hails from.”

Natasha full out grins when she hears that, bearing an eerie  resemblance to a shark that scented blood.

Coulson blinks in surprise. “You’re offering an alliance with Alfheimr in exchange for your freedom? Can you even do that?”

“Yes, I can, and no, I am not. I am merely offering Fray’s continued cooperation with the Avengers and his investment in seeing this planet safe from harm. Director Fury need not know that I am Fray… for the time being.”

“Clever,” Coulson says with wry amusement. “That might work. But don’t go thinking I’m starting to like you.”

Loki smirks. “Perish the thought, Agent.”

Coulson shakes his head, letting loose a long-suffering sigh, before turning and leading the march to the dining room. The others follow dutifully, led by amusement and grumbling stomachs.


	10. Reach Inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, my lovelies! I'm sort of on time this week, hooray for me! 
> 
> As per my usual, thank you to everybody who has left a nice comment and who's taken the time to read my ramblings. You guys make me feel awesome! Please enjoy this week's chapter :)

A small bump in their otherwise smooth evening presents itself when Loki asks Steve if he has any raw ingredients left that he can eat instead. According to his explanation, the cooked ones are too much on his senses. Steve answers in the affirmative and walks back into the kitchen with Loki following behind him, and emerges a little green as Loki follows with his bowl of raw stir fry, complete with raw meat. Tony gives him a measured look and Loki shrugs, his face showing neither distaste nor embarrassment. So Tony ignores the raw meat to the best of his abilities, and after a few quiet seconds the others follow his example. Bruce has to visibly tamp down what must be an entire host of questions, no doubt dying to unlock the secrets of Loki’s biology, but manages to refrain with a great deal of effort.

Tony flashes him a smile, Clint tries to covertly fling his food into Loki’s bowl, Natasha pinches him for his efforts, and an atmosphere of relaxed contentment spreads throughout the room. This, apparently, is their new normal.

****

The night’s dinner is pleasant, and Loki truly enjoys himself. He forgets, for the moment, that he is any different from the others gathered here. He forgets the startling scarlet of his eye and he forgets his frigid cobalt skin. There are no glances, no whispered comments, and no trace of disgust to remind him. It is nice, he decides, to find a place.

Then his thoughts become distracted as Tony shifts closer, bringing his scent to the forefront of the god’s mind. Loki has to pause and resist the urge to lay a claiming hand on the human, as well as resist drawing him close and erasing the scents of the others from Tony’s skin. It is strange, dealing with these odd instincts and impulses, but it allows Loki a broader insight of Jotun culture, a culture that ignorance and prejudice led him to believe did not exist. Loki does not often feel the sharp twinge of regret, but he allows himself to feel it now, along with a small amount of shame. He had been blinded by lies when he had prided himself on his sight. Looking around the table, Loki feels a grim sense of determination settle in. He will not be so stupid a second time.

Then his leg itches and Loki holds back a sigh. Even these clothes, magically altered to be as soft as possible, are irritating his skin. He smothers another sigh. There is nothing he can do about that at present, save stripping down to nothing. Something tells him that Tony will not be as enthusiastic about that in the company of others as he would be if they were alone. A feeling deep inside his soul is still warning him that he should not yet abandon this form, and Loki has a feeling he knows why. Whatever it is that had attacked him—and again, he is near certain he knows exactly who is attacker was—cannot take hold of his mind whilst it is shaped like this. Another interesting tidbit of Jotun physiology. It seems Loki has been ignorant of much. The itch strikes again, more intense this time, and Loki politely excuses himself to the kitchen under the pretense of removing his slightly bloody plate from sight.

Tony follows him, of course, with concern clear in the bond and written on his face. “You okay?”

“I am,” Loki confirms easily. “The clothes are just irritating and I wanted to itch in private.”

“Ah. Fair enough, though I’m pretty sure nobody would care if you scratched at the table.” Loki gives him a look, letting Tony know exactly how likely that is. Tony just laughs. “Okay, okay, no itching at the table. I still don’t get why you aren’t just shifting back. Is the random instinct that important?”

Loki hesitates, turning to wash his dish as an excuse to avoid eye contact. “It is, if a certain theory of mine is correct.”

He hears a groan from behind him. “Your theories are going to kill me, I’m fucking sure of it.”

“This one will definitely try.” After he says this, Loki experiences the rare occurrence of rendering Tony speechless, and it takes a couple minutes for him to recover. Loki spends that time watching him with mild apprehension as Tony’s jaw works, obviously trying to find something to say.

After a few minutes of strained silence, Ton finally closes his mouth, inhales, and then fixes Loki with a steady gaze. “Explain.”

“Later, once we’re alone.”

Tony pauses for a moment, looking back to the dining room where the others are. “Fine, later.”

After dinner is finished, Tony pulls Loki away with a pathetic excuse. Nobody minds, it being the night before their wedding and therefor deserving of private time. It never ceases to amuse Loki how they can be perfectly correct yet also very wrong in their assumptions.

Once on their floor, Tony turns to Loki. “It’s later. Explain.”

“He is looking for me, I am nearly certain.”

Tony’s eyes go wide. “Shit. Is there anywhere you can hide? Aren’t you concealing your presence already?”

“There is no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he cannot find me,” Loki recites dully. The words spring unwanted memories in Loki’s mind, where Tony can and does see them.

After seeing that, Tony swears again, loudly and colorfully. “Do you know where he is? Can he just pop up like you do?”

“No, I do not, and no, he cannot. But if it is him trying to break into my mind, then he already knows where I am.”

“Fuck, Lo, what are we going to do? How long do we have?”

Loki hesitates, allowing his nervousness to show. There is no point in hiding it from Tony anyways. “I am not sure. He is incredibly powerful, mentally. He could be anywhere in the galaxy.” Here, Loki pauses again. He has an idea, and he knows that Tony is going to absolutely hate it. “However, there may be a way to see where he is.”

“How?”

“I can shift back into my Æsir form and allow him to take my mind. Then I will be able to learn his location.”

“No. No way. No way in hell,” Tony says vehemently, eyes flashing. “Fuck, Loki, I don’t think you’ve even recovered from the last time! Why the fuck do you think that’s a good idea?”

“What other option is there?” Loki snarls, whatever patience he usually has with Tony forgotten in the face of his frustration. “We have to know where he is, we have to prepare! It is not just ourselves at risk, not anymore.”

“I know that! But there are so many things that can go wrong. What if he manages to do something to the kid? What if he does something you can’t recover from this time?”

“He will not.” Loki does not have to fake the confidence in his voice.

“Oh really? And how come you’re so sure about that? Care to share?”

“Because I have _you_.”

Tony blinks, looking dumbstruck. “What?”

“You have already thrown him off, and while I was sleeping no less!”

“I feel like I’m missing something. That doesn’t reassure me.”

Loki sighs. “I was asleep, Tony. I was asleep, I was content, and I knew I was safe. My mind was completely unguarded; he managed to exploit that, to block off my essence from the rest of my mind, and you threw him off. Do you have any idea what kind of power that takes?”

“Um, no?”

“Exactly my point! You can make yourself nearly undetectable to _me,_ and I’m bonded to you, all without training. And that,” he pokes the arc reactor, “will stop anything from harming you. You can see, you can experience, but it will fall from you like water from oil.”

Tony frowns, taking a minute to think about his options. Loki is doing his best to make him understand that this is the option. Finally, Tony exhales. “Okay, that makes sense. But what about the kid, huh? I read that high amounts of stress is bad for both of you.”

His statement shocks a small laugh out of Loki. “You researched pregnancy?”

“Of course I did. Don’t change the subject.”

Loki’s half smile falls away, making him look serious once more. “You can protect the child. There is no time to teach you, that would take years, but I can put the skill into your mind.”

“Like the sparring?”

“Like the sparring,” Loki confirms.

Tony sighs, the fight crumbling out of him. “Alright, fine. When are we going to do this?”

“Now.”

“Now!? Are you serious?”

Loki scowls. “Yes. We will do it tonight, otherwise I will not be able to sleep, regardless of what skin I wear, until it is resolved.”

“I… shit, fine, okay. What do I need to do?”

“Hold still.” Loki reaches for Tony’s mind, sighing as they slide together with a soothing ease.

****

Tony’s eyes slip closed and he exhales softly as his and Loki’s minds meet. They’ve never really done this outside of sex, and never to this extent. Tony has to admit he loves the feeling just by itself. He feels Loki agree in a rush of feelings, automatic and barely acknowledged but that somehow manage to form an idea. Then the god brushes the thought aside and tugs on Tony’s mind. After a brief moment of hesitation, Tony allows himself to be pulled away from himself and deeper into Loki’s mind. That in itself is enough to shock Tony. He’s allowing Loki to pull him along, but he has a feeling that if he really didn’t want to, Loki wouldn’t be able to budge him. Again, Loki agrees with his thoughts.

It’s more than surreal to be inside somebody else’s head, to the point that Tony is absolutely positive that he’ll never be able to come up with the words to describe it. That doesn’t mean he isn’t going to try though. To top it all off, Tony can feel a thin thread of _something_ connecting him back to himself. Loki identifies it as Tony’s essence.

Despite the pretty urgent motivations for this, Tony’s having a hard time avoiding distractions. Loki’s mind is _brilliant_ , or at least, the images and flashes of sensations Tony’s brain is coming up with describe it like that.

Tony is surrounded on all sides by pure darkness, the kind of dark that his eyes would classify as velvety and that doesn’t reflect any sort of light. But at the same time, the darkness is filled with tiny sparks of light, making the entire thing remind him of the night sky in a deserted place where no city lights can pollute it. Tony’s brain decides that it feels cool in Loki’s mind, a comfortable kind of cold like the shade or the other side of his pillow.

Of course, Tony also knows that Loki’s entire mind isn’t like this. He can tell—though he has no clue how—that he is in the center of Loki’s mind, where the god’s own essence is concentrated. Outside this area of cool comfort are pulsing, angry areas, colored in dull, rusting reds, and places that are sharp and bleak, brittle and dangerous, that shine malevolently like polished obsidian. Loki makes it clear that Tony is not to venture there, and Tony doesn’t argue. Those areas are the product of torture and betrayal. They are reflections of a time when all reason was lost in madness and in pain. Tony can’t suppress a shudder. He knows without knowing that he has these places in his mind, similar but infinitely different.

Loki allows Tony these few minutes of exploration before he calls him back to the task at hand, and Tony returns his attention somewhat grudgingly. There’s so much to _explore,_ even if he’s not allowed to stray outside of Loki’s core. The thought makes Loki laugh, despite the fact that ‘stressed’ is currently the main word Tony would use to describe his emotional state. He gets an impression of _later_ from Loki, and that’s the determining factor in his decision to buckle down and pay attention.

Loki then starts bringing up his memories of Tony’s mental blocks. He has to pause for a second while Tony gets over his shock. He hadn’t thought his shield was _that_ strong, but apparently it was. He is then instructed to bring up his shields, picturing them as a bubble, but instead of surrounding just himself, he is to include Loki in his protection. It’s surprisingly easy, but then again, Tony can feel Loki directing him and imprinting the ability into his mind. Through that, Tony also gets the impressions of what can happen if he fucks up. It’s not pretty, so he clings to Loki’s careful guidance.

Through the god, Tony can understand _exactly_ what he’s doing and how he’s doing it, which means that once everything is good and done, he can tweak stuff. Loki is clearly not expecting this. He starts near violently in surprise when Tony’s presence sinks into him so completely that Loki wouldn’t know he was even there if he didn’t have prior knowledge.

“ _What are you doing?”_ He asks, and the words have dual tones, almost like an echo as Tony hears them first mentally and then verbally.

_You said to make sure he can’t detect me or the shields,_ Tony responds, not bothering with the verbal bit.

_I feel as if you have faded away._

Tony shakes his head, feeling an odd disconnect between himself and his body. _Nah, I’m still here. I think I’ve got the bond hidden too. It’s linked to that essence stuff you were going on about._

_It is,_ Loki confirms. The added bonus about mental conversations is that the images and feelings that accompany the words makes it impossible to lie. Belatedly, Tony realizes that this must be why he can tell when Loki isn’t being completely honest to him. He must be picking up on mental signals. It’s also how Tony can tell that Loki is more than a little bit impressed with him.

_Is protecting your core enough to protect the kid?_

_No, you must protect the child separately._ Tony’s mind supplies him with so many feelings from Loki when he mentions the kid that it’s briefly close to overwhelming. One thing is certain though; Loki already loves it fiercely and this peaks Tony’s curiosity even more. To his mind, the kid is currently more of an idea than anything else. To Loki, the kid is a definite, tangible thing. The questioning thought barely surfaces before Loki whisks Tony away with stern orders to keep the shields around Loki’s essence in place.

Tony does as he’s told, glad for his ability to focus on more than one thing at a time, and follows Loki into his actual body, something Loki says he is only able to do because of the sheer amount of magic threading through Loki’s veins, which translates to ‘this is impossible to do in your body, so don’t ask’. Tony doesn’t really care about the reason why it is or isn’t possible, he’s too busy being distracted by everything that flashes across his mental senses.

They travel down past the steady rhythm of Loki’s heart, slowing when they approach something that is emitting a soft but steady glow. For the first time since entering Loki’s mind, Tony finds himself enveloped in gentle warmth. They stop just outside the radiant speck, and it takes Tony a full minute to actually figure out what it is. The shock nearly kicks him back to his own head even as the awe has him trying to move closer.

Loki holds him back with a warning thought. _Any closer are you risk effecting its development._

Tony sighs and pulls back, eagerly recording every detail in his mind. _You can feel it all the time? Why is it so bright?_

He feels Loki chuckle. Bad moods seem impossible to maintain around the little speck of glorious light. _Yes, I can, and it is bright because this is a miracle, a gift to the world, as all children are. The light is evident of something pure, and this will be its aura until it is born and can develop a personality of its own._

Fascination surges through Tony. For a couple minutes, he and Loki just bask in the glow of their kid, watching as the tiny aura shifts and whorls in front of them. _Is that aura the kid or is it some kind of protection thingy?_

_It is a means of protection. The aura is the image your mind is supplying you of the physical area the child is occupying._

_Physical? You actually have a place for the kid? It’s not just floating around in a magical bubble?_

_Do you realize how stupid your questions sound?_ Loki’s mental voice sounds more condescending than his verbal voice can manage. Tony thinks irritated thoughts at him until Loki relents a little. _If you must know, this magic is older than your world, older than mine as well. It gives me all I need for the child, and yes, that includes a physical place in my body for it to grow and develop._

_Okay, got it._ Then the reason why they were there in the first place barges to the forefront of Tony’s mind. He looks at the golden speck and realizes that he was permanently and irrevocably hooked the moment he saw it. _Show me how to protect it,_ he says with grim determination.

Loki takes a deep breath—Tony can feel how his lungs expand and contract with it—and then begins to show Tony the process.

The work is hard, nowhere close to being as easy as the shield around Loki’s core. For starters, he can’t actually touch the kid or really go anywhere near it, because that would do bad things to its growth. Tony really doesn’t want to do that, and his added hesitation isn’t making the job any easier. However, despite Loki’s inability to construct impenetrable shields, he understands the theory and application so well that he can undoubtedly be considered an expert. Coupled with the fact that Tony seems to be able to add vast amounts of power to support the shield, the two make an excellent team.

Loki leads, putting up something similar to framework while Tony follows, examining the details and the way they are constructed before dismantling them and replacing them with his own. After they’ve created an outline for something Tony can only describe as a bubble, Loki circles back around, inspecting Tony’s work and pointing out weak areas and tweaking things here and there. When he deems it perfect, because nothing else will do for their kid, he presses the knowledge of how to seal it into Tony’s mind, taking care to include everything that Tony must _not_ do under any circumstances, and including the request that if he decides to do any tweaking he has to run it past Loki first.

Tony agrees, because there’s really no room to fuck up here, and cautiously starts the process. He feels Loki carefully monitoring both him and the speck as he works. As he carefully brings up shields one section at a time, giving Loki time to stop him if something goes wrong, Tony tries to split his concentration so he can watch the speck too, just in case, but Loki brushes him off and makes it clear that Tony should be putting all of his concentration into the shield. Tony complies, trusting that Loki knows best in this situation.

He progresses slowly, putting everything he has into this shield, wanting not only to make it so both the shield and the child are completely undetectable, but in the event that something should go wrong, completely impenetrable as well. He doesn’t notice the surge of energy that pours out of him when the shield seals itself shut, but he does notice Loki’s incredulity when his concentration is broken. The absence of any other feeling but incredulousness makes Tony a little scared. _What? What’s wrong, Lo?_

_Just look,_ the god responds, indicating the newly constructed shield.

Tony does, and what he sees confuses him for a moment. The shield is a bright, brilliant scarlet, marbled with electric blue the exact same shade as the arc reactor. _What the fuck is that?_

_You, I believe._ Loki goes closer, inspecting the shield with fascination. _This is powerful. I do not think_ he _would be able to get through this if given half a century to try, but it is absolutely noticeable. It practically shines like a beacon._

_I know. You said not to tweak anything without running it by you first._ Tony’s shields must be something impressive if Loki forgot about his own terms.

_Show me what you mean to do._ Tony does, making sure to highlight each point. When he finishes, Loki’s mind has succumbed to a stunned silence. It stretches for so long that Tony begins to worry, but then Loki snaps out of it. _That will do_ , he says faintly. Tony takes the impressed admission as permission to go ahead with his idea. He feels Loki watching with rapt attention as the shield slowly fades from sight. _I can still feel the child,_ Loki says after a second.

_Yeah, I connected the Speck with your core so you can watch over it._

_Yeah, I thought so._

Loki’s lips twitch in a smile.   _Do not let it go to your head._

_Too late, babe, it’s already there._

Loki sighs. It isn’t a bad sound. _Go back to yourself, it is time we get this over with._

Tony obeys, going through a brief period of disorientation when he falls back into his own mind and opens his eyes. He then runs a quick check of his shields. They haven’t wavered despite his absence. “Seems like my work’s holding up.”

“As it should. Come, I want to be comfortable when I do this.” Loki leads Tony over to their favorite couch and settles himself easily, looking as if he’s reclining for a nice movie or something.

Tony sits next to him, trying to imitate the god’s calm. “Okay, walk me through this plan of yours.”

“I will return to my Æsir form and slightly lower the shields around my mind, as if it was a lapse of concentration.”

“He’ll fall for that?”

“So long as it shows weakness, he’ll believe it. He will pull my mind onto the astral plane where he will have absolute control over what I see, hear, and feel. You should not  see any of it, but that is not certain. You will definitely see how my physical self reacts. Do not try and interfere. If he so much as catches the slightest hint of your existence, he will come for you. Your death is a much greater punishment than my own, remember that. He should not keep me overlong, and it is not likely that he will actively seek to destroy me. His goal today will be intimidation and threats, not torture or any other sort of physical thing. Or at least, not much of it. He will want me to be more than afraid. He will want me to experience terror, and I have no doubt that he will achieve it.”

Tony gives him an incredulous look. “And you want me _not_ to interfere?”

Loki looks at him near desperately. “Tony, you must swear to me that you will not get involved. You will put all three of us in even more danger if you do!” When Tony stays quiet, Loki reaches over and shakes him. “Please, promise me this.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Does it look like I do? What is necessary is rarely pleasant. Swear that you will not intervene!”

Tony is quiet for a few seconds more. “Fine, I promise that I won’t step in.”

“No matter what.”

“No matter what,” he agrees lowly. “Apparently I’ve already done all I’m allowed to do.”

“You’ve done more than I could have hoped to do on my own.”

“That’s still not enough,” Tony grumbles.

“It will have to be, for the time being. Whatever we discover through this, remember that this is just the beginning. You are my advantage.”

Tony lets out a small grin. “Aren’t you a flatterer. You’re going to start now?”

“I would like to.”

“Okay, but hold on one second,” he says, leaning in to brush his lips against Loki’s. The kiss is slow and gentle, something Tony intends to be calming for Loki and reassuring for himself. Then he surprises both of them by leaning down and pressing a kiss to Loki’s stomach, extra reassurance for himself that Speckles is going to be okay. It’s impossible to think as the kid as anything other than _someone_ now that he’s felt it, so he’s decided to call it Speckles until further notice.

Silence surrounds him after that kiss. Tony looks up at Loki, a bit confused as to why. “What?”

Loki closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before allowing a small smile to grace his features. “I am somewhat unused to another person being as happy for a pregnancy as I am,” he says, curling his fingers in Tony’s hair.

“Get used to it. And I have a feeling that I wouldn’t even be the only one excited for it, if you ever decided to share the news.”

“One war at a time, darling,” Loki chastises, leaning back into the couch and closing his eyes. Tony checks the shields for what must be the hundredth time as the blue begins to fade from Loki’s body.


	11. When the Hour is Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I am so sorry that this is late again. I'm getting progressively better, though. Late is still late, though....
> 
> Anyways, Hello again! This week's chapter is kind of short, but next weeks is looking like it'll be very long, so it'll make it up to you guys, I promise! As per my usual, thank you to everyone who has read and left a nice comment, I write this for you guys :)
> 
> ALSO, I should say that there are some serious depictions of violence in this chapter (I wouldn't exactly say graphic, but then this could just be a twisted version of beauty is in the eye of the beholder). If you have any sort of triggers, (because I do make implications... a mild one) please go into this prepared.
> 
> And without further delay, please enjoy this week's chapter!

Loki starts with his transformation with his feet, deliberately keeping the process slow as he moves up towards his head. He has no desire to be caught in the middle of a shift when _he_ will no doubt grab hold of his mind. Also, as an added measure of security, Loki binds his arms and legs, making sure he will be unable to move. He never wants to wake from a thrall to the sight of Tony’s throat enclosed in his hand ever again.

****

Tony can tell that Loki’s mind isn’t under his own control anymore the second the last tendril of read bleeds from his eyes. Immediately, the god’s body goes taught, like he string of a bow. His green eyes fly wide open and stay that way as his entire body twitches once in a massive jerk. A muscle jumps in Loki’s jaw and his brilliant eyes cloud over, going vacant. Tony watches grimly, heart aching, and monitors the shields as well as Loki’s breathing, held at bay by his word as a scene begins to unfold in his mind.

****

Loki knows this place very well. He takes a deep breath, electing to ignore the fact that what he does on the astral plane does nothing to effect his physical body whatsoever. For the moment, he is alone, but the empty, rocky landscape around him does not offer the god any sort of relief. A familiar set of stairs catches his attention—likely precisely when and as they were meant to—and Loki immediately understands what he is supposed to do and why he is alone.

_He_ is giving Loki the time to create mental shields so that he may have all the more fun smashing them down.

Loki tucks away every single memory of Tony into his innermost self, tucks away every happy memory that has come from living in the tower, and takes every memory he has of his life in the tower for good measure. He knows without a doubt that each and every piece of himself that he has chosen to hide is tucked safely away behind his shields. Loki utters a quick prayer to Fate—for what else does a god pray to?—for his safety and the safety of the child, and tucks his memory of the shield away as well. Then he steels himself and begins to ascend the staircase.

Fear races up Loki’s spine and he halts, his confident stride broken, when he sees the Other kneeling prostrate on the floor before _him,_ a scene that would portray worshipful obedience if not for the crude instrument that pierces up through the Other’s back, pinning him to the floor and maintaining the façade of worship, even in death. Loki did not expect this. This changes the game, lays true the depth of _his_ fury. Then the smell reaches Loki’s nose, and he has to work to control himself so that he does not wretch. This is not a fresh kill.

“So pleased you could finally join us, little god.”

Loki says nothing as months of habit come racing back. He straightens his spine but keeps his eyes trained on the mad creature’s feet. He does not wish to tempt punishment. Silence stretches, of a sort that Loki has rarely experienced in _his_ presence. The Other had always been there to chatter and fill in the quiet with twisted words and putrid thoughts. Now he is dead, and Loki knows his silver tongue will do him no favors here. He does nothing and waits to be addressed. He does not have to wait for very long.

“Bow to me,” the creature orders. “Beg my forgiveness.” His tone is mocking. Loki knows that if he were to do such a thing, it would not help him. It would only serve as entertainment.

Loki’s spine stiffens as if the very action offends him. He will not bow to this creature, not anymore. _This place has no effect on the physical world. He cannot hurt me here._ “I will not.”

Sick amusement flickers in the creature’s eyes. _I do not need your body to cause you pain._ The voice in his head is the only warning Loki gets before he is burning, screaming as flames lick up his body. He tries to stay quiet, the sound of his agony only brings _him_ satisfaction, but the creature only increases the pain, makes the flames burn hotter until the ugly sounds are all but ripped from Loki’s throat. By then he is on the floor, his body twisting itself into impossible shapes as the pain ravages him.

After what seems like an eternity later, the pain stops just as suddenly as it began. Loki lets out a startled gasp, the absence of pain throwing him into a relief so sharp it is painful. Phantom muscles cramp and twist as the god struggles to his feet, turning to face the wretched creature that brought him here. “I must admit, you are losing your touch.”

The creature barely reacts his taunt, other than letting a smile lift the corners of his lips. It is that smile that fills Loki with a mixture of terror and dread. “I am merciful, little god. It would not benefit me to break your mind so soon when you can die, hale and whole. Your spirit will make a fine gift for my lady.”

“I will greet death in my own time, not at the wishes of the insane,” Loki spits, putting every ounce of confidence and defiance he possesses into his voice.

His words are greeted with a cold, malicious laughter. “How brave you sound, standing up to your master as if you can escape me.”

“I am my own master.”

“Truly?” The creature purrs, his voice oily and his eye practically glowing with malice. “You claim I have no mastery over you when you refuse to even utter my name? When you dare not even think it, for fear that it will give me an even stronger hold on your mind? You are well and truly owned, little god, and what a useless tool you turned out to be.” His voice, neutrally agreeable at first, drops to bely a dangerous anger, cold to the point of raw fury.

“I do not belong to you, Thanos.”

Thanos grins. “So contrary. Your lies are slipping, little god. Even now, you shudder where you stand. Your mental defenses are in tatters. _You will suffer for failing me!_ ” Thanos snarls, his demeanor flipping completely in the blink of an eye. He thrusts out his hand, and immediately Loki feels as if a vice has closed around his mind. Visions begin to flash across his eyes, each one more painful than the last. Loki’s memories and experiences while living at the tower are safe, untouchable, but centuries of other memories are available for Thanos to play with.

Loki sees his mother’s bright, smiling face crumple as he strikes her down with his blades, hacking her body to pieces and leaving her corpse to be desecrated. Worse than the sight and sounds of her screaming are the _feelings_ that Thanos impresses upon him. The feel of her flesh and bone as it gives way beneath his daggers, the warm spatter of life blood as if flows from his mother’s body, her smell, usually the most comforting scent in the world, tainted by the coppery reek of blood. Worst of all is the repulsively sick _pleasure_ that slithers through his mind at the sight of the mangled corpse. It is not Loki’s but he still feels it. He watches, held helpless by Thanos, unable to fight back, as this vision grows into the next.

There is his daughter, his beautiful Hella, immobilized by him and thrown into a pit to be used by what Chitauri are left and the other monstrous breeds gathered there. His body stands at the edge, reveling in her screams and laughing at her pleas. When she is brought back to him, a broken lump of blood and flesh, Loki reaches out and snaps her neck, watching with satisfaction as the light fades from her mismatched eyes.

The next one shows Thor tied down by chains, his brilliant eyes clawed out and leaving nothing but gaping, bloody holes. “You do not see, brother,” Loki hisses, drawing a knife across Thor’s skin. He whimpers, the sound of the broken, as his cut glows green and his flesh begins to bubble. Thor’s whimpers build to screams as Loki slowly and methodically cuts him open until there is no blood left in his veins and he heaves his final breath.

Inside his mind, Loki begins to scream for a way out of this nightmare. He can taste bile on his lips and feels his stomach twist painfully as another vision replaces this one. His heart stutters in his chest, even as his soul howls in agony as he is forced to experience the deaths of every person he has held dear, the already unbearable torture made all the worse as he is the one that kills them. They will die, all of them, by his hand.

_This is you,_ an insidious voice whispers. _You will kill them all. You are too broken, too damaged to exist in this universe. Your father knew this, but he failed when killing you. You think you have recovered, but you will snap and they will all burn._

“No! I refuse this fate!”

_Do you honestly think that makes a difference? You are a murderer, a betrayer, a snake. Corrupted. Insane. Unwanted. Unloved. Unneeded. Useless. You are nothing. YOU WILL KILL THEM ALL._

His loved ones’ deaths play over and over again, each new demise more grotesque than the last. Through it all, Loki feels disgusting pleasure and satisfaction at the knowledge that his smiling face is the last thing they will ever see. Deep within him, his soul cries, keening like a dying animal as the false feelings erode the edges of his sanity. Remotely, he is aware of a sense of disgusted outrage. Then awareness dawns in Loki, and the resulting panic is nearly enough to throw Thanos out of his mind. _No!_

A second later, an unidentifiable force of pure fury streams through Loki’s mind, leaping straight for Thanos and sending him crashing to the floor. A brilliant, pure light bursts through just after it, and Loki finds himself wrapped in both a puling red anger, and cool blanket of protection, pushing his panic aside.

Loki suddenly has the strength to stand again, and he does so as calmly and confidently as a king. Before him, Thanos angrily pushes himself up, wincing from the force of the attack on his mind. In this forsaken place, it looks as if the universe itself is leaping to Loki’s defense. “You have been busy, little god. Where did you steal this power from?” His voice is not as smooth as it was, layered with pain and anger.

“Nowhere,” Loki says, smirking.

His smirk erases any trace of benevolent humor from Thanos’ face. He growls, his eyes narrowing. “I am coming for you, little god. Do not even dare to believe you have any chance against my army. Your little tricks will not save you then.”

“And how do you plan on bringing your mighty army to me?” Loki scoffs, attempting to goad the mad creature. “The Chitauri have no hand at long distance traveling, especially not since I lead most of them to their deaths.”

“You are truly a fool if you believe those creatures were anywhere near my best,” Thanos says with a malicious smile.

Loki’s eyes widen as a single image is pressed against his newfound barriers, close enough that he can see it with startling clarity yet far enough that it is no danger to him, like looking at a wild beast through glass. An idea accompanies it, spelled out clearly. It is a horrible clash of reality and future that should not be able to exist. It sends a ripple of dread through Loki, ruining his newfound composure.

Thanos grins. “Until next time, little god.”

Loki’s vision goes black and he is slammed back into his own body hard enough to push him into shock. The first thing he is aware of after that is Tony gently cradling his face.

****

“Shit, Lo, are you okay?” Tony worriedly grabs Loki’s face and holds it carefully as the god’s eyes slowly focus. His heart’s racing and some of the panic feels like it’s lodged beneath the arc reactor. He’s been asking Loki that question way too fucking often lately.

Once Loki’s eyes look less clouded, they focus on Tony with a measure of relief. Then they narrow. “Why did you interfere?”

“You needed me, so I jumped in.”

Loki frowns and shoves Tony’s hands away. “You swore to me that you would not get involved!”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Tony says, bristling at Loki’s accusing tone.

“No choice, Stark?” Loki asks acidly. “You gave me your word! Does my trust mean so little to you?”

“You were screaming!” Tony yells. “I could hear it everywhere, in my head, even in my fucking _soul,_ and don’t even ask me how I fucking know that, because I have no fucking clue! Things started slipping through, I saw everything, and I was surrounded by your agony. Promises can go fuck themselves because there was _no fucking way_ I was going to leave you to suffer through that! Not alone, not for some fucking advantage. Your trust means everything to me, but I’d rather have you hate me than sit by and listen to you break.”

His words make Loki pause, eyes going wide and then closing in defeat. “How close did I come?”

“Souls make the most disturbing screams when they start to crack. How do I even know that?” The sound had hurt him more than he thought possible. Tony slides his eyes closed. He wants to forget it, the horrible keening wail that forced him into action, but it keeps echoing around in his skull. He shudders and doesn’t resist when Loki roughly pulls him into an embrace.

“I am sorry. I had not meant to risk so much,” Loki says softly. “You know because I put the knowledge there, as a measure of security. You could have silenced me so that the sound did not reach you. I see no that you would not have done that.” Then his voice hardens. “But you should not have thrown aside your word so easily. So much more could have been lost if you had been discovered.”

Tony sighs, a great big gust of air. “I know. I’m sorry, you’re right. But it’s done now. I’m sorry for breaking my promise.” Of course, he isn’t even a little bit sorry for rescuing Loki, just that he had to break a promise to do it. He’s not nearly sorry enough to stop himself from doing it a second time. He sighs again. “This whole escapade didn’t do us any good, though. We’re still in the dark.”

“Not quite.”

Tony stills. “What?”

“I know when he is coming. I know what he brings with him. We cannot allow him to get close enough to strike. There is no hope against the nightmares he has gathered, not if they are close to Midgard.” Loki presses the images through the bond.

Tony flinches at what he sees. “Holy fuck. Are you sure? He wasn’t just messing with you?”

Loki shakes his head. “He is too sure of victory for it to be a lie. He wants us to die fighting, so as to make a better gift to his lady.”

And once more, Tony panics. Slightly. “Loki,” he says somewhat desperately, “how long do we have?”

“Six months until he reaches the outer regions of the galaxy,” Loki whispers in a monotone voice, “eight months until he reaches Midgard.”

“We can’t let him get that close.”

“No, we cannot.”

“I don’t like that time frame.”

“Nor do I.”

“Fuck.”

“Indeed.”

“Shit, I’ve got to tell Steve.” Tony jumps to his feet and starts walking to the elevator, already trying to figure out the logistics of space warfare.

“Not today,” Loki says calmly, jolting Tony out of his thoughts.

Tony stops and turns around, looking at Loki incredulously. “Not today?”

“No, and not tomorrow either.”

“How long do you want me to wait? Six months is nowhere near enough time to prepare, Lo! A crazy purple guy is coming to destroy us, and you want to keep it a secret? Are you insane?”

“Possibly,” Loki replies with a small grin. Tony isn’t amused, and after a second Loki sighs. “Three days. That is all I ask for.”

Understanding dawns in Tony. “Oh. Because of tomorrow?”

Loki inclines his head. “Yes. I refuse to let Thanos dictate the next six months of our lives. We will have our day tomorrow. We will do our best to survive whatever horrors Romanov has planned for us. We will not let this news tarnish our enjoyment of tomorrow’s event, nor any other preparations that we will be making in the next few months,” Loki pauses to rest his hand meaningfully on his stomach. “Besides,” he says, a small smile lighting his face, “it is not as if this is a surprise. We knew _somebody_ would try to kill us.”

Tony laughs despite himself. “We just thought it was a little closer to home.” Then he sighs. “Jesus, Lo, what are we going to do?”

Loki arches an eyebrow. “I should think the answer would be fairly obvious. We are going to have our fun, and then we are going to kill him.”

“I thought you’d say that,” Tony mumbles, shaking his head.

“You know me so well,” Loki smirks. Then he yawns abruptly, looking exhausted. “How long was I absent for?”

“About four hours. It’s nearly three in the morning.”

“Ah.”

“Bed?”

“Bed,” Loki agrees. He heaves himself up and follows Tony to their room, yawning all the while.


	12. Innocence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's uploading on time!! 
> 
> Hello again, my lovelies, how wonderful to be here when I'm supposed to be! Thank you to everyone who read and left a nice comment, you guys are the butter to my bread ♥
> 
> Please enjoy this week's chapter :)

Horrible nightmares that snared them both made the next morning a little earlier than Tony and Loki would have preferred. A unanimous agreement of the necessity of a hot beverage finds the two of them on the common floor at what would be considered a normal breakfast time by normal productive people.

Loki is making eggs while Tony stares into a mug of pitch black coffee. All in all, this looks like any other morning for them, except for the time at which it is occurring. If Natasha is shocked when she walks in and finds them there, she doesn’t show it.

“Good morning, little spider,” Loki says with a grin. “Would you like some eggs?”

“No thanks. I’ve got an appointment so I’m heading out.” She snags Tony’s coffee from him as she walks past and takes a sip.

“Hey! Give that back!”

“Sorry, I’m running late. Make yourself another one.” Looking anything but apologetic, she proceeds to ruin his coffee with milk. Then she kisses Loki on the cheek, ruffles Tony’s hair as she sweeps past, and disappears as fast as she arrived.

Loki snickers while Tony makes himself another coffee, grumbling the whole time about happy assassins. “How come you got a kiss and I got messy hair?”

“She clearly likes me more than she likes you. And your hair was a mess to begin with.” Tony’s grumbling changes to include unsympathetic fiancés and happy assassins.

“Sirs, Agent Romanov has asked me to remind you that you are to be ready to depart at two o’clock this afternoon.”

“Sure thing, Jarv-Barv. That gives me time to play around in the lab.” He turns to Loki. “Want to join in?”

Loki smiles. “Not this time. Eat your food and then you can go.”

Tony wrinkles his nose. “Who are you, my mom? I don’t like food in the morning.”

Loki stares him down. “I do not care.”

Tony resumes his grumbling as he picks at the solitary fried egg that Loki has placed in front of him, each bite monitored by the god’s watchful and amused eyes.

****

Loki laughs to himself as Tony makes his way down to the lab. His human was still grumbling as he walked away. Determined to enjoy this day and temporarily erase the horrors of the previous night, Loki returns to his floor and paws through his books, looking for something filled with adventure that he has not yet read. Once he finds a book that he deems appropriate, Loki settles himself in a chaise near the window he had thrown Tony out of, preferring to use the natural light to read and chuckling at the memory.

He had not been reading for very long when a jolt goes through him, after which Loki finds himself looking up towards the roof of the tower. Thor has returned.

“Sir,” Jarvis says crisply a second later, “Mr. Odinson has returned.”

“I am aware, Jarvis, thank you. Where is he?” Loki sighs as he marks his place in his book and stands.

“He is on his floor, sir.”

“Thank you.” Loki walks to the elevator with heavy steps, wondering what he will find when he faces Thor again.

“Sir,” Jarvis pipes up suddenly and sounding somewhat nervous, “Mr. Odinson has requested that you remain in your rooms and that he will come to meet you. He asked me to inform you that there are complications.”

Loki freezes, anxiety racing up his spine. “Tell him that he is to come to me immediately.”

“Of course, sir. Shall I inform Mr. Stark?”

Loki takes a second to think it over. “No, there is no need at the moment, Jarvis.”

“Very well. Mr. Odinson is on his way.”

Loki nods and begins to pace, wondering what in all the realms would make Thor employ caution. It is not an overly comforting list.

When Thor finally arrives (a bare handful of minutes later) Loki immediately snaps at him.  “Why were you on Asgard for so long? What complications have arisen?”

“Peace, brother. Your location is still unknown. However, father is suspicious. He sent more than words back with me.”

It doesn’t take long for Loki to puzzle out his meaning. “He sent the idiot brigade back with you.”

Thor inclines his head, looking upset. “He did. And I wish you would not call them that.”

“Why did you bring them here?” Loki burst out, outrage clear in every feature.

“I was given no choice. I could not refuse him without arising suspicion.”

Loki growls, his jaw clenched and twitching as he spins away, resuming his pacing. He hates to think it, but Thor is right. “Could you not delay your arrival for at least another day?”

Thor shrugs. “Perhaps, but I did not want to miss your wedding.”

Loki stops, mid-pace and stares at Thor, wondering if there is an emotion stronger than rage. “You absolute _idiot!_ ” He spits, wondering how in the realms such a complete moron possessed enough common sense to know that outright refusal would be detrimental to his goals. This thought gives Loki pause. Thor is not well versed enough in subterfuge to know how to play his strategy. Thor is not the type to _have_ strategies, or so Loki had thought. “Did you retrieve the apple at least?”

Thor nods and takes a bright red backpack off of his shoulders. Loki had not noticed it before, but the large depiction of Mjolnir and the word _Avengers_ printed across it gives him the idea that the bag was a joke gift and his oaf of a brother enjoys using it anyways. _By the Nine,_ Loki thinks, _he wore that ridiculous thing with his armor on Asgard._ The irrational urge to snicker rises in Loki, but he pushes it down, forgetting about it entirely when Thor presents him with a burlap bag.

Suspicion brings itself back to the forefront of Loki’s mind. The bag is much too large to contain a single apple. “What is this? What have you brought?” Loki’s voice is sharp as he asks the question.

“I have done as you asked,” Thor responds calmly.

Frowning, Loki opens the bag and finds it filled with golden apples. Their heady, sweet scent barely has any time to drift out of the bag before Loki quickly scrunches it shut, his mouth falling open in shock. “What did you do? I asked for one! There are laws against taking apples from Asgard, and wards in place to ensure those laws are upheld. You should have only been able to remove one!” A thought occurs to Loki, making his eyes widen in horror and his heart race with anxiety. “You could not have gotten these past the wards unless—”

“Mother sends her congratulations in regards to your upcoming nuptials,” Thor says calmly, completely unaware of the danger he has created.

“You fool,” Loki hisses. “Have you any idea what you’ve done?”

“Yes,” Thor answers, looking mildly affronted. “Not only has mother sworn herself to secrecy, but she was also the one to approach me and inquire about how you have adjusted to living in your new home.”

All the air leaves Loki’s lungs in one breath and his stomach drops. “She knew?”

“She says she dreamed of it the night you escaped. Mother has known where you were and why you chose to stay here since you arrived.” Loki quickly turns around and closes his eyes, keeping his back to Thor as this new information settles in him. “She has also asked me to tell you that she wishes she could have done more to help you escape, but delaying father’s arrival was all she could manage.”

A wet laugh escapes Loki. “I still have a mother, then,” he murmurs quietly, enjoying the taste of the words.

“I do not think you could have ever lost her,” Thor says softly.

Loki takes a couple seconds to breathe and compose himself before turning to face the other god again. “Thank you, Thor. Have you any more messages for me?”

“Yes, one. Mother asked of me to tell you to do a scan as soon as possible, though she would not tell me why. She only said that it is the sort of thing you would want to be aware of.” Thor shrugs.

Loki frowns in confusion. He cannot fathom what she could possibly mean until something occurs to him. “Oh,” he says dumbly, the expression and tone of voice so unusual that Thor looks slightly afraid.

Before he can say anything, Loki turns and bolts, tucking the apples away in a pocket dimension as he goes, heading straight for Tony’s lab. He ignores the elevator and leaps down the stairs, forgetting about the unwelcome houseguests on Thor’s floor. It never occurs to him to teleport.

When he bursts into the lab, he finds Banner and Tony bent over a screen, muttering to each other. Banner is the first to notice his arrival. “Out. Now,” Loki orders. Banner takes one look at Loki’s face and leaves, his own expression fast becoming filled with concern.

“Lo?” Tony asks, fear apparent in his voice and snaking across the bond.

“Scan me, now. See if you can detect the child. Look for magical signatures, biological indicators, anything, just do it.”

“Why? Is something wrong?”

“I have no idea. Just start!” Loki snaps.

“Jarvis, pull up the mojo scanner, do a basic scan and then tweak it so it’s as sensitive as possible.”

“Scanners are online. Shall I project all findings?”

“Yes. Be prepared to deviate if we see something.”

“Of course. And the biological readings?”

“I’m going to do that myself with the handheld scanner. More immediate results.”

Loki exhales, some of his anxiety lessening as Tony beckons him over and starts working. If there is anything out of the ordinary, Tony will find it. Of course, there is no way he can find it quietly.

“So what brought this on?” He asks as he waves a scanner over Loki.

The god tries to answer without moving overmuch. “Thor has returned. He brought a warning from my mother.”

“A warning? _Your mother?_ ” Tony sputters. Despite his shock, his hand remains steady as it works. It makes quite the odd contrast.

“Either a warning or a piece of advice. It depends on the results.”

“Don’t think you’re avoiding my question by distracting me with Speckles.”

Loki sighs. “Later, please. I need to know the child is fine.”

“Same here,” Tony says quietly, turning his attention to the scans. Then he sighs. “Nothing. It’s too early on the biology side of things. All the scans are telling me is that you’re pregnant.”

“And the energy scans?”

“Are being configured. They will be on screen in a few seconds,” Jarvis announces crisply. “Also, might I suggest raising security on the lab?”

Jarvis’ prompt reminds Loki of the other half of Thor’s news. “Do it,” he orders without waiting for Tony to say anything.

“All protocols are in place,” Jarvis confirms. “Emergency access capabilities have been granted to Agent Romanov.”

Loki sighs in relief. “Excellent. Thank you, Jarvis.”

“Lo, is something going on?”

“Nothing that is our concern at the moment. The scans?”

“Complete.”

“On screen,” Tony orders, swinging around in his chair to examine them more closely. Then he makes a frustrated noise and leans back. “Yeah, no, I need the life-sized ones.”

“Of course, sir.”

The scans blink into existence, and Loki eyes them with thinly veiled interest. There is much more red in his head than there was the last time. It is interesting to be able to see how much influence Tony has on him through the bond. Then his eyes flick down to his abdomen and he squints at the pulsing golden shape. “This is telling me no more than I could have discovered on my own.”

“That’s because we haven’t magnified it yet. Jarvis, isolate the energy signature of the golden stuff and then adjust the scanners to ignore it as much as possible.”

“The process has been initiated, sir.”

Loki frowns in confusion and turns to Tony with a frustrated look. “Why are you doing that? The aura is the only observable thing we have!”

“Not true,” Tony says, shaking his head. “You said it yourself, the aura represents the place where Speckles is growing, right?” Loki nods slowly, not sure what Tony is going on about. “So,” Tony explains carefully, “if the aura is surrounding Speckles, then the energy from it is blocking our view of the _inside_.”

It takes Loki a couple seconds to figure out what he means. Then it dawns on him and his lips part in surprise. “You are looking for the child’s magical signature.”

“Bingo.”

“There is no guarantee that there will be one.”

“No,” Tony agrees, “but with parents like us, there’s a pretty high chance of it. If not, I can always break into Bruce’s lab and use his medical equipment.”

Thinking about how Banner would react if they entered his lab without permission makes Loki shudder. “I would rather avoid that.”

“Same here,” Tony agrees, “but what is necessary is rarely pleasant.”

Loki snorts as his words are echoed back at him. Then he transfers his attention back to the display, watching as the golden light fades. When the aura is nothing more than the suggestion of an outline, Loki eagerly scans the small area with his eyes, keenly aware of Tony standing next to him doing the same thing.

A few seconds pass and then Loki sighs in frustration. “I see nothing.”

Tony waves a hand, dismissing his words, and leans closer. “That’s because what we’re looking for is tiny. How far along are you?”

“Two weeks today.”

A ghost of a smile spreads across Tony’s face as he works. “Yeah, tiny. Just a little speck, really. It’s probably being drowned out by all of your mojo.”

“So get rid of that signature too!”

The human sighs. “No can do, Lo. Speckles probably has a similar signature to yours, and it’d be so small that it’d be wiped out too. I’m just hoping it’s a different color.” With that explanation, Tony sits back and spreads his hands, enlarging the hologram before him. “Jarvis, what do you think? Any anomalies?”

Loki stops paying attention to Tony and the AI, opting instead to look for something himself. Then his eyes land on a little dot, lavender in color with a little halo of white, pulsing away happily. Relief crashes through Loki, and a smile spreads unchecked across his face. This child will have magic. “There,” his voice rings out decisively.

Tony halts his conversation with Jarvis to stare at the little purple spot. “Huh. Magical. I knew it! This is going to be so fun. Is that what your mom wanted us to find out? And how does she know anyways?”

“Mother is gifted with prophecy,” Loki answers quietly. “This must be it. Every other sign indicates that the child is fine.”

“Prophecy? Sounds useful. Your family is weird.” Tony says, and then he hums, playing with the hologram. He twists it around and flips it, looking for something else. Loki knows he’s just checking, so he waits patiently while Tony goes through whatever mental checklist that is dictating his actions.

He does not expect the swooping feeling in his stomach, and it takes him a second to realize that the sensation is not coming from him. “Tony? What is wrong?”

“There’s another one.”

“What?” Loki snaps his attention back to the hologram, noticing that Tony flipped it completely around. There, nestled behind the little dot, is a little blue dot so pale that it could have been mistaken for white. In fact, Loki _had_ mistaken it for white, and another part of the first signature as well.

Then it hits him. Two magical signatures. _Two children._ Loki leans back against a workbench as shock races through him. He thinks back on Thor’s words. Yes, this is definitely the type of thin he would like to know.

When his astonished silence lasts for much longer than either of them are comfortable with, Tony clears his throat and shifts his weight, going from staring at the pair of dots to staring at Loki. “Say something, Lo. Is this what I think it is?”

“It is,” Loki says faintly.

“Holy shit.” Tony’s voice is just as faint. “I’m not going to lie, I’m a bit more freaked out than I was. Twins, Lo? Seriously? Are you okay? I mean, I get that this might not exactly be common but you’re a lot more shocked than I am.”

A weak laugh escapes from the god. “It is not common at all, actually. I cannot even remember the last time a couple was gifted with twins.”

“Oh my god, a pair of Speckles!” Tony bursts out, chuckling at his own joke. Loki is still much too shocked to join in.

Twins. By the fates!

“Lo?” Tony asks tentatively. “Are we happy about this, or is this a problem? And how uncommon is it exactly?”

Loki takes a deep breath in an attempt to center himself, trying to let the shock drain away. He is partially successful, though he is left by a feeling of absolute giddiness. “We are ecstatic about this,” he says quietly, letting a smile infuse itself into his words and shine brightly on his face. “We are gloriously wonderfully completely _happy_ about this. _Twins,_ Tony!”

“Twins,” Tony repeats, a smile spreading across his own face.

“There has not been a birth of twins on Asgard in over a millennium! We must have truly impressed Freyja and Iðunn both to have such a gift given to us.”

Tony frowns, and Loki can feel his mind flicker with confusion. “I’m sorry, who? And what do they have to do with our kids?”

“Freyja and Iðunn are both of Asgard, though they stand apart from other Æsir. Even the Allfather must bow to them and their words. Freyja’s and Iðunn’s magic stems directly from Yggdrasil. They are the pillars of our people, the reason we survive. Iðunn tends to the orchards where golden apples thrive under her care. Only she can grow them. They grant us long life, rapid healing, and fertility. It is by her hand that the Æsir and those of Vanaheim gained long life. Freyja, on the other hand, is responsible for our children. It is she who allows the Æsir to continue. When the two work together, the results are wondrous,” Loki finishes softly, pressing his hand to his stomach. It is still flat, but Loki has a feeling that he will begin to show much sooner than he had originally thought, as twins will surely take up twice as much room.

“Remind me to send a thank you card with Thor next time he zips back to god-land,” Tony says seriously. Loki imagines Freyja’s face as she opens a little card selected and written by Tony, and then he’s laughing, his joy of the news and his amusement infusing the sound with light.

****

After the laughter fades from the god’s throat, Tony sighs happily. He hasn’t seen Loki this happy before, and the feeling is infectious. A grin spreads across his face and Tony whistles as he spins around in his chair. “We’re going to have to add another bedroom to our floor.”

Loki snorts a laugh. “Is the current empty room too small for them to share?”

“Nah, but they can’t share forever. They’ll need their own space.”

“Darling, it will be a number of years before we will have to begin worrying about that.”

“I’m thinking about the future.”

“So I see.” Tony can tell that Loki’s trying to sound aloof, but the god can’t quite manage it. For a little while, they just sit there, basking in the glow of their excitement.

Then Tony remembers that the lab is currently in lockdown. “So, want to tell me why the lab is on restricted access?”

“Ah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And next week is the wedding. I'm excited for it!


	13. My Heart is Beating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! So sorry this update is late, but it's the Labour Day long weekend here in Canada, and I've been dragged up to the cottage with my family. I'm updating this with Starbucks wifi while my cousins wait for their drinks. Praise the gods for mini-laptops!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this week's chapter. It's a bit longer than what I usually post. As per my usual, thank you to everyone who's left a nice comment, kudos, and every person reading. You guys are the maple syrup to my pancakes!
> 
> Does anybody hear wedding bells? ♥

The small noise makes Tony very nervous. He sighs and rubs a hand down his face. “How bad is it?”

“Thor has returned with company.”

The blood drains from Tony’s face. “Who?”

“The lady Sif and the warriors three,” Loki says in a voice brimming  with false enthusiasm.

“Shit.”

“I am of the same opinion.”

“Can you wear an illusion?”

Loki sighs in obvious frustration. “No. If the Allfather has indeed sent them, then they will be equipped to detect any magic that I might use to hide myself. I have never been more grateful for the residual energy shrouding the tower, however, as I should still be able to use magic so long as they are not close. But illusions, as you know, throw off a continuous energy signature.” Then his face twists in a scowl. “And Sif has made it her personal mission to detect me in any disguise I might conjure.”

“Well fuck.”

“Aptly put.”

Tony starts playing around with the shit on his desk, trying to come up with an idea. He isn’t very successful.

“Sirs, Doctor Banner, Captain Rogers, and Agent Barton are requesting entry to the lab. They claim that it is an emergency and that Mr. Odinson is distracting his guests.”

Tony and Loki share a look. No alarms have gone off, which means the others are there because they’re worried. “Let them down, but keep up security.”

“Of course, sir.”

A few seconds pass, and then the elevator doors slide open. Tony greets his team, and then hurriedly waves away the holograms that were displayed. There’s no way the others would be even be able to tell what was going on, but it never hurts to be safe.

“I’m assuming you’ve met our house guests,” Tony says cheerfully. Bruce gives him a tired look and the quietly retreats to the corner, attempting to gain control of his breathing. Tony winces. So it was that bad.

Clint gives Loki a look. “They’re on a hunt, and they’re pretty fucking determined. Looks like big daddy didn’t exactly believe whatever it was that Thor told him.” Loki sighs.

Steve looks nervous. “What do we do? They can’t have you. Can you wear a disguise?”

“No can do,” Tony answers glumly. “They’ll have magic detector thingies. Possibly. And Loki gives off a signature when he uses spells.”

“So don’t use magic,” Bruce calls from his corner.

Tony gives him a look. “What, do you seriously think fake glasses and a mustache is going to work?”

Bruce sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “My god, you were right, you are an idiot. Tony, what device did you and I accidentally create?”

“A cloaking device,” Tony answers, eyes narrowed. Then his eye open wide. “Oh. _Oh._ Yeah. No magic. That might just work. I _am_ an idiot.”

Tony feels realization flicker in Loki’s mind. “Ah. Yes, that could work. We are both idiots.”

“We were distracted,” Tony quips, smiling slightly.

Loki mirrors his expression. “That we were.”

Steve clears his throat. “Does somebody want to fill me in? Not on what you were distracted with,” he adds quickly.

Loki quirks an eyebrow, smirking profusely. “Are you not of a mind for details, Captain?”

Tony snickers as Steve makes a pained face, probably picturing all sorts of horrors inspired by Loki’s expression alone.

Clint makes an annoyed noise. “As much as I love seeing Steve squirm, we’ve got a herd of angry warriors upstairs, and you’ve got a plan. I’d really like to know what it is.”

Tony sighs. “Right. Brucie, the device if you please.” Long used to being called ridiculous things by an equally ridiculous person, Bruce retrieves the device from a drawer and tosses it to Tony, who catches it easily. “Long story short, Bruce and I accidentally created a device that allows the user to shape shift into whatever they want. Without magic.”

“Accidentally?” Clint says incredulously. “How the fuck did you manage that?”

“Like I said, accidentally, Barton, pay attention,” Tony says condescendingly.

Steve sighs. “Tony, Clint, stop it. You can argue about it later. Does the device work?”

Tony grins. “Jarvis, give us a new look for Loki.”

“What would you prefer, sir?”

“Whatever you think is best, Jarvis,” Loki answers, curious to see what the AI will come up with.

A few seconds pass, and then Loki’s form shimmers. The first major difference Tony notices is the height. Finally, Loki is shorter than he is. Not by much, but by a few inches at least. Then he notices the auburn hair falling in ringlets around the god’s soft face, and then he notices the gender.

“Well?” Loki asks, her voice light and airy and completely different than usual.

“You look absolutely nothing like yourself,” Tony announces.

Mist grey eyes flick over to him with a mischievous sparkle, and when she smiles there’s little dimples at the corner of her mouth. Even with that light in her eyes, she looks nothing like Loki whatsoever. Then she looks down at herself, lifting her hands and inspecting everything that is visible to her. “I am a bit softer than I am used to.”

“You aren’t fat, honey, you’re perfect,” Tony says laughingly.

She smiles, unable to hide her amusement, and smacks Tony on the arm. “Of course I’m perfect,” she says, tossing her hair, and Tony notices a definite difference in the way she talks now too. Then Loki’s smile fades. “Do you honestly think this will work?”

“Jarvis,” Tony says, by way of an answer, “use the mojo scanner on Loki. What’s it telling you?”

“My sensors indicate that Miss is a human being with a slightly higher than normal energy reading, similar to your own readings, sir.”

“And our pair of Speckles?” Tony asks carefully.

“My readings show no change.” The others look extremely curious, but have the good grace not to ask.

Loki exhales slowly, the set of her shoulders relaxing. “Good.” Then she wrinkles her nose. “I need some clothes. And a name.”

Tony looks her over. “I think what you’ve got on right now will do for clothes. Good thing you decided to wear grey today.”  

Loki raises an eyebrow, unimpressed by Tony’s reasoning. “Fine, jeans and a shirt. What about a name?”

“Luca?” Clint suggests.

Loki turns to him with a frown. “Luca? That’s barely any different from my actual name.”

Clint shrugs. “A bit too obvious for someone like you, right? They won’t question it if they’re expecting your usual repertoire. Trust me, I’m a spy.”

“That… strangely makes sense,” Bruce concedes.

Loki reluctantly nods as well. “Yes, it does.”

“Great, so it’s settled,” Tony says with forced enthusiasm. “Jarvis, snap a picture of Luca here and send it to Tasha along with her measurements. Say that she needs something to wear to the wedding.”

“I am not marrying you looking like this,” Loki cuts in.

“No shit you’re not. You’re just going to travel looking like that. We’ve got S.H.I.E.L.D. monitoring us too.”

“True. This may well work. Though perhaps it would be simpler if I remained hidden in the lab?”

“Unfortunately, Mr. Odinson’s house guests are requesting to meet with you,” Jarvis announces crisply, killing that plan before it could even take root. “He also advises that every resident of the tower come to greet his guests. It seems that they are suspicious of the sudden departure made by Agent Barton, Doctor Banner, and Captain Rogers.”

“Well, that settles that.” Tony claps his hands together, the general cheerful quality in his voice sounding extremely strained. He knows Loki can feel the true extent of his worry, but that doesn’t mean that he has to let the others know how truly nervous he is. He levels a curious glance at his friends. “But really, how inconspicuous were you?”

“It was kind of a mad scramble for the elevator,” Bruce answers honestly.

“And they probably heard us talking about the wedding,” Steve adds sheepishly.

Tony sighs. “Great. Well, let’s go greet our guests.” Loki sighs as well as she joins them in the elevator.

A few seconds of silence pass, and then she makes an annoyed noise. “You all need to move back a bit, I feel crowded.”

Tony smirks. “Not so fun being short, is it?” Loki pinches him, hard. The others move back quickly enough.

When the elevator finally arrives at the common floor, Tony watches with fascination as Loki takes a deep breath and then rearranges her features into a pleasant smile. She intertwines her fingers with Tony’s, and then they file out into the kitchen, where they find Thor trying to decipher the cooking instructions on a box of frozen pizza. Steve rushes over to help him before any damage can be done while the others stand in an uneasy silence.

Once the pizzas have been safely placed in the oven, Thor turns around, eyes pausing on Loki for the barest fraction of a second before he’s smiling at the room in general. “My friends, I apologize for complicating an already busy day, but as you see, I returned with company. These are the warriors three, Hogun, Fandral, and Volstagg, and the lady Sif.” Each Asgardian inclines their head when Thor introduces them, adding in a smile or a little wave, except for Sif, who just glares. Or has no expression. Tony can’t really tell.

Whatever the case, Tony has a hard time not glaring back. He remembers exactly what she’s done to Loki, and he feels sick knowing that the bitch is taking advantage of his hospitality. Loki’s fingers tighten on Tony’s in warning, knowing all too well what Tony’s thinking, and so he lets his media smile spread across his face instead of the glower he wants to adopt. “Nice to meet you. Tony Stark,” he says instead of the accusations and insults, and offers his hand. The warriors surprise him by firmly grasping his forearm one by one. A glance at Thor shows him that he did the right thing, so Tony goes with it. Sif eyes him but doesn’t move to take his hand, and he shrugs internally. He didn’t want to touch her anyways.

One by one the others introduce themselves, until finally it’s Loki’s turn. “Luca,” she says softly, extending her hand and smiling sweetly, if a little bit shy. Fandral is the first to grasp it, and he bends to brush a kiss over her knuckles. Loki blushes, forced of course, but it amuses Tony to no end.

Volstagg and Hogun shake her hand less flirtatiously, and Sif surprises everyone by doing the same, with one major difference: she does not let go. “I have never heard of the lady Luca before. Do you fight amongst the rest?”

“Oh, heavens no!” Loki says, with a little laugh at the ridiculousness of the idea. “I’m a historian, not a hero. Oxford graduate, class of 2010.” She says the last bit proudly, as any graduate from Oxford would. Of course, Sif and the others have no idea what Oxford is, but then Loki’s persona supposedly wouldn’t really know that either.

“And what,” asks Sif, “would a historian be doing with Midgard’s most powerful warriors?”

Fandral, Tony notices, is looking anywhere but at Sif, while the other two are watching with rapt attention. Interesting, but not the most important thing at the moment. “She’s my fiancée,” Tony interjects smoothly. “Or betrothed or whatever it is you guys call it. We’re getting married today.”

“Truly?” Fandral says with surprise. “Then you have my congratulations. May your marriage be filled with good fortune.”

“Thank you,” Loki replies, smiling brightly. Then her smile falters somewhat, and she looks back at Sif. “Will you please let go of my hand?”

Instead of listening, Sif reaches into a pocket and takes out a little golden ball. It’s not perfectly round, looking instead like it’s been smashed around a bit, and there are runes carved all over it. “Hold out your other hand.” Loki’s face morphs into confusion. Tony can feel the hatred boiling under her skin. None of it shows on her face. Of course, having no choice but to use her left hand, Sif notices the ring. “An interesting piece of jewelry,” she comments, looking nearly triumphant.

“Thank you,” Loki says, smiling happily as she glances at the ring. “Tony bought it for me after he proposed.” Then the golden ball lands in Loki’s palm, and nothing happens.

Tony waits a second longer, and then allows the relief to spread through him when Sif frowns and finally lets go of Loki’s hand. He can feel an echoing relief from Loki, but it’s slightly overshadowed by the hatred.

“So how long are you guys sticking around?” Tony asks cheerfully, throwing an arm around Loki’s shoulders as he does so, offering what support he can.

“We were planning on about a week,” Fandral says, looking more than a little relieved himself. Definitely interesting.

“Really? Well, as surprising as this is going to sound, we really don’t have enough bedrooms for you guys.”

Fandral nods. “Yes, Thor has told us the same thing. He also said that there are various inns in which we might stay.”

“Oh, definitely,” Tony agrees. “Hundreds. But you guys might not be all that comfortable in an… uh… inn. I’ve got a penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park that might work better for you. It’s got one of the best views this city has to offer.”

“Thank you, it is appreciated.”

“Actually, I would prefer not to be so far from Thor,” Sif says suddenly. “After all, we did come to visit him.”

_Well fuck,_ Tony thinks.

“I agree,” Volstagg adds with enthusiasm. He claps a hand on Thor’s shoulder, smiling broadly. “He has an entire set of rooms to himself, and I for one do not mind sleeping on the floor.”

“We have slept in worse places,” Hogun pipes up helpfully.

“Uh,” Tony begins, but then Loki steps in front of him.

“If that is what you prefer, you are more than welcome to stay,” she says, smiling. “We will be rather scarce for the next couple of days, though. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, not at all,” Volstagg laughs. “We chose an inconvenient time to visit.”

“Please don’t worry, it’s fine. But if you’ll excuse us, it’s nearly two and I need to get ready.”

And with those words, Loki engineers their escape. They all disperse to their floors, and Tony details his security protocols to Jarvis in the elevator ride up. According to his new features, their floor and his lab no longer exist, and access is extremely restricted. Only Natasha and Steve have full clearance to move freely through the floors.

“They know I am here,” Loki says irritably. She settles down on the couch and sighs, glaring at the ceiling.

“Do they?”

Loki huffs. “At the very least, they suspect.”

“Of course they do! Your cover was blown that night at the hospital, right? They would’ve totally seen you with me.”

Loki frowns. “That is true,” he agrees, considering what that means.

“Big daddy isn’t going to risk offending us, especially if he suspects that his golden boy is going to take our side. With tonight’s little display, we definitely confused them,” Tony continues, on a roll. “So yeah, this is inconvenient as hell, and I really fucking hate having them here, and we’re going to have to be on our toes for a while, but as long as we don’t give them anything to question, we come out on top.”

“I am aware, and I hate having her here as well. I also hate having to hide in my own home,” Loki grumbles.

“It sucks, I know. But you can’t hide from me,” Tony says with a grin. Then he taps his head. “I’ve got your number.”

“So you do,” Loki says, amusement making the edges of her mouth tip up.

****

They sit together on the couch for a while, and then Romanov arrives. She sends Tony off to change with a pointed look and herds Loki into the bedroom after him.

“I’ve got a dress and some shoes for you to wear out the door, and I need you to work your magic on Thor’s suit.”

Loki reaches out and touches the suit Romanov presents to him, and they immediately grown and rearrange themselves. “Those should do,” she says, and Romanov smiles.

“Great. Let’s get you changes and then I’ll make sure you get dressed. What’s with Sif? She really hates you.”

Loki’s mouth twists. “You have spoken to her.”

“I was spoken at,” Romanov corrects. “I went to find the others to make sure they were starting to get ready and I found her instead. Lovely woman,” Romanov finishes brightly. Loki snickers at the tone, and then steps into the dress that is held out in front of her. It is silk, colored a lovely champaign gold with a fitted bodice and a skirt that falls in airy wisps to the floor. A delicate golden chain with a large emerald drop accompanies it. Romanov has chosen well. “Who is she to you?”

“She was once a friend. Now I find that her death would be most pleasing.”

“How long ago is ‘once’?”

“A few centuries ago, at least,” Loki says dismissively.

Behind her, Romanov is quiet as she starts playing with Loki’s hair. “So you slept with her, huh?”

Loki stiffens automatically, not expecting to hear that, and then curses internally when she realizes that her reaction confirms Romanov’s question. “As I said, it was centuries ago. It ended badly.”

“How come?”

Loki sighs. “The Allfather ordered me to marry, and chose for me the daughter of one of his advisors. Sif, apparently, was to be reserved for Thor, and he knew I would not bed another whilst married.”

“So you just ended it and married her? That doesn’t sound like you.”

“You have come to know a very different me,” Loki supplies simply. “It was five centuries ago. Even a god will change in that amount of time. Needless to say, Sif was insulted. She saw my capitulation to the Allfather as being spineless and weak, worse than scum in her opinion. She does not see that she has fallen into the same role, a brainless pawn for Odin’s schemes.”

Romanov hums thoughtfully, her hands still combing through Loki’s hair, putting in small braids here and there. “Are you still married?”

“No. I have been unattached for over three centuries.”

Romanov frowns. “What happened to your wife?”

“She left me,” Loki says bluntly. “And do not ask why, please. I prefer not to speak about it.”

“Does Tony know?”

“Everything but my past relationship with Sif.”

Romanov tsks, twisting some of the braids together. “Does Thor know?”

“No.” Quiet reigns for a while after that. Romanov finishes with Loki’s hair and then bends down to help her into the matching golden heels.

As she’s looking at the floor, considering the fit of the shoe, Loki presumes, Romanov speaks again. “She did something more than turn on you when you got married. You hate her more than you should.”

It is then that Loki realizes that Romanov is looking at the floor to allow her the opportunity to lie instead of answering truthfully. It is that courtesy that leads her to speak the truth, or at least a small portion of it. “She killed my son,” she says quietly, her voice nearly a whisper.

Romanov’s head snaps up, her expression filled with shock, and then she pulls Loki into a hug. “I’m sorry,” she says, just as quietly, because that really is the only thing one can say.

Loki hugs her back, a swift action, and then steps back, straightening her dress. “Thor also knows nothing of this.”

“Why don’t you tell him?”

“Because I don’t want to see his eyes when he finds out. For all his failings as a brother, he truly loved my children. It would devastate him.”

“Isn’t this supposed to be a happy day?” Tony asks from where he’s leaning on the door frame.

Romanov smirks. “Oh, it’s going to be.”

“Well then, lead the way, little spider,” Loki says with a small smile of her own.

****

It takes an additional half an hour to get everyone else ready and out of the tower. Fandral makes a point to stop them on their way out and once again offer his congratulations and wishes for a good evening. He looks at Loki strangely when he says it, and makes certain to shake Tony’s hand and thank him for letting them stay there, given the situation. His words carry a double meaning, Tony’s sure of it, but he’s more than happy to forget all about it for the time being. Jarvis volunteered for babysitting duty, and has agreed to play Disney movies for their unwanted guests when everyone piles into the limo.

Happy, looking vaguely proud that Tony is managing something as traditional and respectable as marriage, drives them all to city hall, where papers are to be signed and rings are to be exchanged.

Coulson’s already clicking away with his camera while Clint does his best to ruin every picture.

The minute the car pulled out of the garage, Loki took off the cloaking device and magicked himself into a three-piece charcoal grey suit and a crisp white shirt. Tony hasn’t gotten a good look at his ass yet, but he knows it will look awesome. He remembers choosing that suit.

Once they pull up to the building, Loki shifts into Liam and then they’re out of the car and hurrying up the steps. There aren’t any paparazzi out, but being who they are and being dressed as they are, that’s bound to change very soon.

Once inside, they follow Natasha’s lead. She walks up to the front desk and smile. A few quiet words later, the entire group is led away to a private room to wait. In the new silence, Natasha opens her purse and pulls out a packet of legal forms, sets them on the desk, and starts patrolling the room, looking for security cameras. Clint goes to help her while Tony walks over and picks up the papers, letting out a low whistle when he sees what they say. “Tasha, are these _assassination_ forms?”

She smirks and places a scrambling device in an out of the way corner of the room. “They’re a non-disclosure agreement. One of the advantages of being a spy in a covert government organization is that I have the power to keep people silent.”

“I got the forms,” Coulson adds in, looking pleased with himself.

Loki frowns. “You are filing this with S.H.I.E.L.D.? Will they not void the terms once they discover who this is for?”

“No,” Coulson answers. “Protocol states that the cause for the use of these specific forms is never included in the actual file. They won’t know why it’s there, and they won’t ask either.”

“You guys are a bunch of secretive bastards,” Tony grumbles, trying to get his head around the idea of protecting secrets you don’t even know.

“it has its flaws,” Coulson agrees easily. “Are you complaining?”

“Not today.”

A quiet knock sounds and then a minister walks in with his own stack of legal papers in his hands, and all conversation about secretive government organizations falls away. After placing his papers on the desk, the minister turns with a big smile. “Mr. Stark,” he says pleasantly, shaking Tony’s hand with enthusiasm. “I can’t tell you how honored I am to be able to officiate your marriage.”

Tony throws him a media smile. “Thanks for doing this, by the way. Before we start, though, I’d appreciate it if you signed a non-disclosure agreement. I prefer to keep my private life private.”

“Of course,” he agrees good-naturedly. “I completely understand. I’m going to have to read through the whole thing first, though. Policy and all that,” he says, waving his hand vaguely.

“Awesome, take your time.”

The group disperses around the room, commandeering the few chairs available and leaning up against the walls if they couldn’t find a seat. They stay quiet as the minister reads, every pair of eyes focused on his face. Tony watches with mild amusement as he reaches the assassination part, pales, and reads it again, just to be sure. He also feels kind of sorry for the guy, but it’s not like they’re asking for much. Just a little silence.

When the minister finally reaches the end of the forms, he sits back carefully in his chair. His hands are shaking when he places the non-disclosure agreement on the desk. “Why is this necessary?”

“We are not currently at liberty to answer that question,” Natasha responds smoothly.

“If I read this correctly, everything that takes place in this room after the papers are signed is subject to the terms of agreement, correct?” Natasha nods. He sighs, deliberating for a moment, and then uncaps his pen. Under the assassin’s careful eye, the minister signs in all the right places, looking uncomfortably grim. When the deed is done he sighs again. “Alright, now that I’ve signed my life away, can I know why it was necessary?”

Tony grins and turns to Loki. “Well, now that we’re covered, why don’t you show him, babe?”

“I would prefer it if you did not call me that,” Loki says with a disgruntled air as he shifts back into himself.

“Then what do you want me to call you?”

“My name, to start.” Loki grins, and turns to the slack-jawed minister. “Loki Friggason,” he says formally, inclining his head slightly.

The minister pales even further. “You’re back.”

Loki gives him a look. “I have been here for the better part of a year, but to claim that I am ‘back’ implies that I had been here previously.”

In an instant, the man looks immensely confused. “But—”

“But nothing,” Steve cuts in. “Sir, we are here to protect this world and her people. We would never bring him here or accept him if he was a threat. During the invasion there were more forces at work than what was visible. Please don’t question it, because I can’t tell you any more than that.” Tony holds back a smirk at Steve’s Captain America act. For some reason, he’s always more popular with the uptight people.

The minister opens and closes his mouth a couple times as he stares at Steve’s earnest face before he comes up with some sort of response. “I, yes, okay, sir. Captain.”

He stumbles over his words and Steve smiles at him. “Thank you. By keeping your secrecy, you’ll have done your country proud.”

Tony thinks that’s laying it on a bit thick, but the minister puffs up at the praise. “I’ll do my best, sir.”

A small cough from Loki and the accompanying feeling of amusement gives Tony the impression that the god is doing his very best not to laugh. Loki never really did understand the fervor that is American patriotism.

“So, shall we?” Tony prompts. The minister jumps, pulls himself together, and starts their little ceremony with no more time wasted.

Tony stands through it all with Loki at his side and his friends around him, feeling a little spark of happiness shoot through him. He never thought his life would change so dramatically, but here he is, in a group of friends, getting married. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony sees the corner of Loki’s mouth quirk up in a grin. He shoots Tony a look as if to say that he’s thinking the exact same thing. As far as marriages go, Tony thinks this one won’t turn out half bad.

When it’s time for them to exchange their rings, Tony slips his off and holds it out to switch with Loki. His finger feels oddly cold without his ring, but Tony ignores it, telling himself that it’s more mental than anything. That thought dies a quick death when the air in the room takes on a static charge. He flicks his eyes down to his ring finger and is mildly shocked to see that it is glowing a soft red and that a string of red light is connecting the ring back to his finger. A glance at Loki’s ring finger shows it’s glowing a soft green, and a similar thread of light is connecting his ring to his finger. When they exchange rings, the threads stretch and then intertwine as they settle the rings in place. In a small flash of light, the threads disappear from view.

Electing to ignore the light show until he can ask Loki about it in private, Tony pulls the god into a delicious kiss and they seal the deal.

Then, of course, there are papers to sign and all sorts of legal bullshit. “Marriages are public record, you know,” the minister informs them.

Coulson smiles. “You let us take care of that.” The minister nods and retreats to a corner, waiting for them to finish signing everything. Bruce signs as Tony’s witness, and Natasha signs for Loki. Then the minister signs back and signs his bit, pronouncing Loki and Tony officially married.

So of course, Tony has to kiss Loki again, because that’s what people do with their husbands. He barely notices Steve and Coulson snapping pictures with their cameras, and then it’s time for a group shot. The poor minister ends up with both cameras, and then everyone gathers around them, and they do one good shot, one shot of Tony and Loki holding up the marriage certificate with everyone making stupid faces, and one shot of Tony and Loki kissing while their friends laugh around them, except for Clint, who looks vaguely disgusted and entirely resigned to his fate. When Tony gets ahold of the camera, he decides that that photo is his favorite.

As they’re leaving, Tony makes sure to thank the minister and slip him a cheque, as a thank you present, of course. If the minister looked disgruntled before, one look at the cheque smoothes the negative emotions from his face. With tears in his eyes and sounding pretty genuine, the minister wishes them luck and happiness in their marriage.

Tony has a good chuckle about the power of money, Loki shifts back into Liam, and Steve makes them wait while he poses for a picture with the minister and sighs an autograph.

Then they’re out on the steps where there’s a crowd of people waiting for them. Loki grins and pulls Tony into their obligatory kissing on the steps picture. The paparazzi go wild, and Tony thinks that he should probably give a quote or something, but Loki’s laughingly pulling him towards the car and he just doesn’t feel like it. He’ll put up a video or something later. Maybe.

Happy drives them away without any direction from Natasha, and Tony forgets to be curious about their destination. He’s too busy trying to get a decent picture with Loki without Clint or Coulson making a stupid face in the background.

They stop outside a restaurant, the name of which sounds vaguely familiar to Tony. He remembers the name being written on some papers or something like that. “I think I own this restaurant.”

“You do,” Natasha confirms, laughing at Tony. Loki shakes his head at Tony’s lack of knowledge and leads the way in. The entire establishment is closed for them, which means Loki gets to be himself. Tony has a feeling that every staff member present tonight has to sign Natasha’s scary non-disclosure agreements.

Inside, a few of Tony’s friends are waiting. Rhodey’s there, doing his best to look happy when he shakes Loki’s hand, and smiling genuinely when he hugs Tony. Jane Foster was flown in for the occasion, much to Thor’s delight. He makes a happy noise and sweeps her up into a hug before she even gets a chance to greet the newly married couple. Then she nods to Loki, not exactly looking distrustful, but with the clear intent of giving him a chance. Loki nods in reply and compliments her dress. Then he drops hints of the possibility of another marriage in the future and casts a meaningful look in Thor’s direction. Jane is a lot warmer to him after that.

There’s a good looking spread of food, and of course, there’s a cake. It’s not white, which Tony is grateful for. More pictures follow, and then they tuck into the food. Rhodey claims the seat next to Tony while Loki is still at the buffet, talking and laughing with Natasha.

Rhodey watches them for a bit, and then turns to Tony with a grin. “Honestly, I’m shocked.”

“Shut up,” Tony laughs.

“No, honestly, man. You’ve been smiling like an idiot since you walked in.”

“I have not!”

“You have, darling,” Loki snickers as he slides into the seat on Tony’s other side.

“Yeah, well you’re practically _beaming_ ,” Tony shoots back, and then, because he can, he reaches out and tangles his fingers with Loki’s, pulling the god’s hand up to kiss it.

Loki chuckles. “You are being horribly sentimental.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told that’s pretty common for weddings.”

Rhodey snorts. “Especially when you’re the one getting married.” Then he leans around Tony and gives Loki a look. “I don’t have to worry about you or anything, right? I’m not going to get a phone call when you and Tony fight and find out half of New York is destroyed or anything, am I?”

The god smirks, looking as if he’s seriously contemplating the idea. “I make no promises.”

“Great. That’s exactly what I need to be worrying about when I’m shipped out.” Rhodey sounds completely resigned. “I make the trip back from Afghanistan twice, and this is my reward.”

“Shut up, you love it. How much money did Nat win off of you already?”

Tony smirks, and Rhodey has the decency to look sheepish. “Forty bucks so far. Please don’t make any sappy speeches.”

“She bet that I would?”

“She bet that something sweet and or sappy would be said to the room at large at some point.”

Tony hums thoughtfully. “How much did you bet that I wouldn’t?”

“Three hundred.” A grin starts to spread across Tony’s face. He turns to Loki, who smirks, and then they both look at Rhodey, who recognizes Tony’s expression immediately. “Please don’t.” Tony goes to stand, but Rhodey pulls him back down. “Tone, I’m serious, I want to win at least one bet.”

“Okay, okay,” Tony concedes, sitting back and picking up his fork again. A spark of mischief flies over to him from Loki, and Tony has to work to hide his smile. Rhodey, for the time being, looks relieved. Of course, he can’t be allowed to have that expression forever. This _is_ Tony’s wedding, after all. It’d be no fun if everything went smoothly for everyone else. So when Tony finishes his food, he casts a quick look around the room to make sure that everyone is sitting down. Then he waits until Rhodey has a forkful of food in his mouth and jumps to his feet. Rhodey makes a choked noise, Tony clears his throat, and just like that he has his friends’ attention.

“I’m told that you’re supposed to give speeches and stuff at these sorts of things, and I’ve got to point out that I’m no good at speeches.”

“Yet here you are, talking anyways,” Rhodey grumbles, glaring at him. That gets a laugh out of everyone.

“Drunk already?” Clint asks with a smirk.

“Nope, I don’t drink anymore. Stuff tends to happen when I do, especially when I pull out the good scotch. Life changing stuff.”

“Such as?” Loki prompts, his mouth turning up in a grin.

“Well,” Tony begins, with a smirk of his own spreading across his face, “the first time I brought out the good stuff, I got tossed out of a window. The second time I dipped into it, I came out of a week-long sulk-fest and found you bleeding out on my floor.” His eyes connect with Loki’s. “The third time was way better, but probably even more life-changing. That’s why I’m done with the stuff. My life is about as crazy as I can handle it, and I know it’s stupid to blame everything on alcohol, because I’m probably giving coincidence way more than it’s due.

“But, when I turn out to be wrong and my life keeps getting crazier and crazier, in the shitty ways and the good ways, I will have you by my side, Lo, and fuck if that doesn’t make me feel like I can take on the whole universe.” Loki’s smirk fades, leaving him looking slightly astonished. Complicated emotions flit across the bond as Tony takes their moment of mischief and turns it into something else entirely. “If time got rewound and I had to do everything over again,” Tony continues softly, “the only thing I would do differently is try to find you sooner.”

At the conclusion of his impromptu speech, Tony leans down to kiss Loki sweetly, ignoring how he probably looks like a sappy idiot. It’s his wedding reception, he’s allowed to be.

Loki smiles against his lips and draws back slightly, looking at Tony with happiness clear on his face. “And they say that I am the one with the silver tongue,” Loki murmurs, going in for another kiss.

“Two sides of the same coin,” Tony replies. Then he turns to look at his slightly amazed friends. He sighs when he sees their expressions. “Seriously, guys? I know I’m an asshole, but I’m capable of being nice to my husband.”

“I never thought I’d hear you say anything even remotely close to that,” Coulson remarks dryly.

“I got it on tape!” Steve announces happily.

“You have to send it to me, Maria is going to love it.”

“Sure thing, Phil.”

Tony laughs to himself and turns to Loki. “I think I just shot my reputation down the drain.”

Loki chuckles and reaches out to entwine their fingers together again. “Possibly, but what a delightful way to go.”


	14. Hold On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I am so, _so_ , **so** sorry that the chapter is an entire week late! I also apologize that it is rather short as well. I've started back at university, and I have way more work than I thought I would, so I'm just horribly behind with everything. There will be more about this in the end notes.
> 
> Anyways, hello and welcome to our mini-chapter! As per my usual, thank you for every nice comment that was left, they make me super happy, and thank you to every reader! I made this for you.

Midgardian weddings are very similar to those on Asgard, but distinctly more enjoyable in Loki’s opinion. Perhaps he is being biased, this _is_ his wedding after all, but then, it is also his second wedding, so perhaps his opinion is more valid than most. Regardless, Loki enjoyed this evening immensely. There is nothing that could even tarnish it.

He groans, his thoughts derailed, as Tony twists underneath him, bringing their hips into contact. “Lo, seriously stop thinking, you’re killing the mood.”

“Am I?” The god says thoughtfully as he runs a hand over Tony’s chest, letting his nails scratch the human’s skin as he slides his hands lower. “Please forgive me,” he says devilishly, voice perfectly even, as he leans down to kiss Tony’s neck, nipping here and there until the human groans. “I do not wish to be responsible for ruining my husband’s wedding night,” he murmurs against Tony’s chest before he flicks his tongue over a nipple.

Tony groans again. “Smug bastard.”

“Never.” He grinds his hips down onto his husband’s and proceeds to press open-mouthed kisses down the parts of Tony’s body that he can reach. Then he shifts backwards so he can get at even more of Tony’s body, doing his best to drive Tony insane.

He only gets so far before Tony ruins his plans and opens his mind, passing along the feeling of each and every touch. Loki hisses and then moans into Tony’s thigh as ghost lips press against him. After that, Loki doubles his efforts, trying to see how long Tony can hold his concentration, as well as enjoying the results. He takes Tony into his mouth, moaning when the mirrored sensation hits him.

He pauses for a second as Tony laughs breathlessly, his amusement filtering through the bond, and then his mind is drawing Loki’s further into his own until they are very nearly one. Loki understands his laughter a second before the most arousing feeling brushes over him, making him shudder and groan in its wake. “How…?” He moans again as another wave hits him. He makes sure to pass along the sensation this time, if only to make Tony look less smug.

“I just had an idea,” Tony pants and then gasps as the feeling passes over him. While he’s distracted, Loki sits up, murmurs a quick spell, and then presses into Tony, lips parted in pleasure as he pants.

Tony makes a high noise from beneath him and wraps his legs around Loki’s waste, pulling the god closer to him. “Fuck me with everything you’ve got,” he demands, moaning when Loki starts to move. “I’m all yours.”

Loki leans down to kiss him. Then, with a final nip on his bottom lip, Loki pulls back just far enough to speak. “As I am yours,” he murmurs softly, lips brushing Tony’s with each word. Then his hips slam forward into Tony, wringing a strangled moan out of him that Loki proceeds t swallow with a kiss.

Despite this new distraction, Tony relentlessly resumes his sensory manipulation. Loki is silent, the sensations too intense to allow him to produce sounds. He pants, eyes half closed, as he fucks Tony, feeling everything he is doing from two points.

When Loki feels his release building, he reaches between them to take hold of Tony, and with as much mental concentration he can come up with, he turns Tony’s trick back onto him. The human cries out, suddenly much closer to orgasm than he was mere moments ago. At nearly the last second, Loki closes the final distance between their minds, gasping as orgasm rips through Tony, shrouding his mind in a white-hot burst of stars. He hears a garbled moan that Loki knows is his name, and then his own release is upon him, stilling the frantic pace of his hips as he spills deep inside of Tony.

When he returns to his own mind, Loki rolls off of Tony to the side, keenly aware that his trembling arms are not going to support his weight any longer, and pulls Tony close to him. Lazy contentment pours off of his husband in waves, and Loki finds that he is unable to hold back a smile.

In his arms, Tony sighs happily. “You know, I think I like the married life.”

“Good,” Loki replies, feeling a deep satisfaction.

****

Their first week of married life flies by pretty quickly. Tony and Loki have the perfect excuse to stay sequestered away on their floor, never showing up for anything and pretending that everything is fine. In light of their ‘guests’, their awful news gets delayed even further.

The few times they did have to make an appearance, Loki went as Luca, leaving Tony to do his best and not walk funny, which is a lot more impressive than it sounds, considering the sheer amount of sex they’ve been having. They never quite manage to fool Natasha, but everyone else doesn’t notice anything strange.

Loathe as he is to admit it, the four Asgardians don’t cause a lot of problems during their stay, and are generally pretty okay houseguests. Tony thinks that Thor must’ve given them a talking to, because only one piece of furniture gets broken, and he counts that as a win.

Fandral, interestingly enough, is fascinated by Midgardian culture. He spends a good chunk of one of Tony’s appearances asking him questions about movies and television shows. Tony points him in the direction of classic Star Trek after Steve recommends a couple of educational websites to browse through, and two days later Fandral claims he loves it. Tony has a pretty hard time maintaining his dislike of the guy. Loki, too, is intrigued by Fandral’s behavior.

He, like Thor, adopts regular earth clothes during his stay, much to Sif’s displeasure, and constantly asks whoever he can to take him around New York, wanting to see every part of the city.

During one of the few dinners Tony and Loki sit through, Volstagg asks to hear about Loki’s invasion of New York, as it was their first battle as a team, which is apparently important to Asgardians.

After a tense silence, Steve starts talking, painting the Chitauri as the main villain rather than Loki. The others add in their bits, pretty much sticking to the same idea, except for Clint, who gets a little over-enthusiastic about his perfectly timed exploding arrow. Admittedly, Tony has to concede that anybody would be, and Loki is in agreement. She laughs beside him and then smiles sweetly at Clint, who hurriedly looks down at his plate, looking appropriately scared.

Of course, their bit of fun is ruined by Sif, who scoffs and leans back in her chair. “How pathetic. The lying coward does not even lead his own invasion, and then he is bested by Midgardian technology. How typical for a magic user.”

“Okay, first of all, ouch,” Tony says, glaring at her. “Midgardian technology is top notch, especially _my_ technology, and secondly, aren’t most magic users women where you come from?”

Sif lifts her chin, giving herself an arrogant look. “What of it?”

“ _You’re_ a woman. Shouldn’t you be nicer when you talk about the rest of them?”

Her eyes narrow. “I do not insult the sorceresses of Asgard. I merely think it pathetic that Loki practices woman’s work.”

Loki frowns, her soft features appearing to be genuinely confused. “It doesn’t work like that. You’re still insulting them by saying women’s work is worth less than man’s work. You’re a woman in what I assume is a man’s position. If you keep talking like that, people are going to say those things about you.”

“I have earned my place,” Sif argues vehemently, “and he took the easier path instead of standing with his fellow warriors.”

“The same can be said about you. If magic is so easy, why can’t you do it?”

“That is different. Loki failed in his duties as a man.”

“Well, if what you’ve told me is true, haven’t you failed in your duties as a woman?”

Tony feels Loki’s satisfaction as anger pulses in Sif’s eyes, but then a second later the table is tossed aside, and Sif is on her feet. “You dare insult me? You lowly mortal!”

Tony jumps to his feet and pulls Loki behind him as the pissed off Asgardian advances on them. Through the bond, Tony can feel how Loki almost _wants_ Sif to try something. He presses thoughts of their pair of Speckles through the bond and receives a sheepish thought a second later.

“Sif,” Thor says lowly, his voice carrying a warning. She stops moving, though she keeps glaring at Tony and Loki.

Then Fandral steps forward and claps a hand on Sif’s shoulder. “She’s right, you know. You’re playing the fool. We really ought to be nicer to magic users, especially considering how most everything on Asgard functions with magic. Including, if I am not mistaken, your dual bladed staff.” A pregnant pause follows where Sif glares at Fandral murderously, and then she snarls at him and sweeps out of the room. In the silence that follows, Fandral offers Tony an contrite smile. “My apologies. She is not as she once was.”

Tony waves his apologies off. “No problem, it wasn’t your fault.”

Hogun, looking uncomfortable, gives Fandral a pitying look. “You had best sleep with both eyes open tonight.”

Fandral makes a face, and Steve steps in quickly. “I’ve got an extra room on my floor. You can stay there for as long as you want.”

The blond Asgardian’s face breaks out in a grin. “Thank you, my friend, that is very generous. I will try to stay out of your way.”

The matter seemingly settled, everyone gets to work picking up the remnants of their dinner and doing their best to clean up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, my schedule this year is painful to behold. Not only do I work, but I have classes all week, including an eight hour block of lectures on Wednesdays (hooray). So, I will try as best as I can to keep updating weekly. If it looks like I'm falling behind, I will try and warn you guys in advance if there won't be another update the upcoming week, so no more going ghost on you guys (sorry about that).
> 
> Please be patient, this should change after Christmas. So sorry for the inconvenience!


	15. Oh You Tell Me to Hold On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody, look who managed to post sort of on time! Hooray! 
> 
> I bought a sword. Completely irrelevant, I know, but I'm super happy about it. 
> 
> Anyways, my usual thanks to everybody who reads, comments, and gives kudos, you guys are the light of my life, the butter to my bread, and the helium to my balloons.
> 
> And now for this week's chapter, wherein follows the beginning of my bastardization of Cap 2: the Winter Soldier, which I do not own, at all. I own nothing except my sword. Eheheh. Enjoy!

With only two days left of their unwanted visitors, Tony can already taste the freedom that their leaving will bring. Loki just snorts when he says so and calls him overly optimistic, but Tony can tell that he’s looking forward to it too. In the meantime, there’s plenty of sex, so Tony feels like he can last a bit longer in this uncertain limbo.

Alarms blare, and then someone who is definitely not Loki is shaking Tony awake. Beside him, Loki tenses and then raises his head to look at Steve. Tony groans, because there’s no way it’s anywhere past three in the morning (and that’s being optimistic), and then jumps to his feet and bolts for his closet. “What are we dealing with this time? And why the personal escort?”

“We’re not sure, Coulson called this one personally,” Steve calls over the alarms. “And I’m here because Nat took the others in the jet and I need a lift.”

“Why didn’t they say they were out?”

Steve grimaces. “We’re on radio silence, Coulson’s orders. It’s kind of a relief; I didn’t want to have to force Sif to wear ‘lowly Midgardian technology’ at this time of night.”

“Well fuck, the merry band of warriors is out too? Perfect. Lo, that means you’ve got to stay here.”

Loki freezes mid-step, already dressed and ready to go. “No.”

Tony sighs. “You know you can’t let them see you.”

Loki glares at him and vanishes from sight in a puff of air. “Then they will not see me.”

His disembodied voice makes Steve jump, mostly because it comes from all around the room instead of one source. “Loki,” he says, trying to sound reasonable but failing in the way his eyes flick around the room, “what if this is nothing? You’re risking a lot.”

“I will step in only if I am needed,” the god concedes, and from the tone of his voice, Tony realizes that that’s the best he’s going to get.

“Okay, fine. You shouldn’t have to sit in here anyways.”

The suit assembles on him, the window slides open, he grabs Steve, and they fly out into the night. He only knows Loki’s following him because of the bond. Otherwise, not even Jarvis’ scanners can find a trace of the god in the pre-dawn darkness.

Safe in his suit, Tony shudders, looking at the city below him. New York has been nicknamed the city that never sleeps for good reason, but at this time, perhaps just on this one occasion, the city is unnaturally still. It’s as if it’s holding its breath, waiting. For what, Tony doesn’t know. They fly in silence, reluctant to break the quiet that seems to have shrouded the streets.

“There,” Steve whispers, his voice alarmingly loud in comparison to everything else. He’s pointing to a small blinking light in the mouth of an alley, utterly unremarkable unless you were looking for it. Tony lands there and they walk further in to find the rest of their team, the four Asgardians, Coulson, and a group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, all looking grim.

“What’s going on? Why the radio silence?” Tony asks, shifting uneasily. The additions to their usual team enforces the feeling that something isn’t right.

“There’s been hostile movement in this area, four buildings down. It’s been under suspicion for weeks, but we’ve never gotten any conclusive evidence that something’s actually going on. We have it now, and we’ve been aware of it for an hour, tops. It doesn’t look good. They’ve got our frequencies monitored, and we don't know to what extent either. We’ve also been getting some very strange readings off of the building, kind of similar to the data we have on the Tesseract but compromised somehow. Whatever it is that’s going on in there, it’s bad.”

“If it’s a stakeout, why have we been called in?” Steve asks, looking as tense as everyone else feels.

“This isn’t a stakeout, and officially, S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t involved,” Coulson says quietly.

“Phil, what’s happening?”

Coulson shakes his head. “We don’t know. Everyone here is a volunteer. S.H.I.E.L.D. transmissions are also being monitored, but we’ve known about that for a while. It’s a tricky situation.”

Tony frowns. He’s not in the mood to sort out Coulson’s cryptic words. He turns to Natasha. “Why are we here?”

“We think they have hostages that they aren’t planning on negotiating over, and we’re here because we saw _him_ ,” Natasha shudders, handing Tony a single photograph. He takes it, studying the image intently. It’s not very close, badly lit, and kind of blurry, but Tony can make out an arm either incased in or made of polished steel and what looks like a red star painted just below the shoulder.

It’s ominous looking, but Tony doesn’t quite get it. “This guy warranted a sneak attack?”

“He’s dangerous, Tony. We’re keeping the streets quiet so there’s as few civilians involved as possible. We need to get him out of here and help whoever it is they’ve taken,” Natasha answers, looking shaken enough that Tony feels fear slither up his spine. He trusts Natasha’s judgment.

“Well shit.” He turns to Steve. “There’s ten of us plus Coulson’s guys. What’s our plan, Cap?”

****

Loki watches from a suitable distance as Tony plans with a group more than twice the size of his usual team. He wishes he could be a part of it, knows his brand of assistance would be more than useful, and curses Thor’s band of idiots for his necessary banishment.

He filters what passes through the bond to keep Tony oblivious to his rapidly souring mood. Judging by the variety of grim expressions, his husband does not need any more distractions.

He waits as they plan, considering his own options and how he can best assure the safety of his housemates while keeping himself concealed. His options are limited, considering the fact that to achieve true invisibility and not just an illusion, Loki is very much incorporeal at the moment. It is not _impossible_ for his to provide assistance. He only needs to be more creative in his approach.

Tony helps him with his own planning by relaying everything from the major points of their strategy to the seemingly unimportant minutiae through the bond. Through Tony, Loki knows where each person will be positioned, what they will be working towards, and several contingency plans to fall back on should the original become compromised.

The plan itself is sound, detailed enough to be thorough yet not overly complicated, and seems as if it will provide instant victory. Unfortunately, it is Loki’s experience that these plans often ‘go to shit’ the fastest, to borrow Tony’s words. He shares this thought with Tony, who agrees, and settles into a grim determination.  If events could be controlled by will alone, Loki has no doubt that Tony would lead them into victory.

As it is, Loki hopes that determination will be enough.

Once they finish planning, the group disperses. Romanov and Barton take the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in two groups and melt into the shadows, disappearing like smoke in the wind. Banner, as expected, stays behind with Agent Coulson, to be used in an emergency and otherwise help with coordination once communications are again deemed safe. Thor leads Sif and the warriors three towards the main entrance as a distraction, and Tony once again takes Rogers to the skies to wait for the signal to enter.

Hostage situations are tricky at best, especially when one cares whether or not the hostages survive.

Loki, of course, follows Tony from a distance. From his vantage point, Loki is able to see Thor’s group as well, and he watches with mild amusement as they barge into the main entrance of the building, generally making a lot of noise and looking about as secretive as a hound in a henhouse. Seconds after their entrance, the sounds of fighting and gunshots ring out, disturbing the deceptive quiet of the street.

It is their hope that whoever is occupying the building will recognize Thor’s grand entrance as the distraction it is and disperse to cover all remaining entrances, thereby leaving the hostages significantly less guarded. Hopefully. Loki snorts to himself. There is an appallingly high amount of hoping in hostage situations.

A few minutes later, Romanov’s signal flashes. Tony and Rogers drop to the roof, where Loki magics the door open for them. Rogers looks confused for a moment, but his expression clears when Tony nods in Loki’s general direction, a slight frown on his face. Loki sends exasperation through the bond. _I will be useful,_ he thinks vehemently.

_Sure, whatever, just be_ careful, _Lo,_ Tony thinks back, just as determined for Loki to remain safe as the god is to be involved.

A second later confusion races through Loki. They should not be able to communicate like this, not with their minds firmly rooted in their own bodies and no point of contact between them. Belatedly, Loki remembers to reign in his confusion before it can jump across to Tony. He does not need the distraction. He drifts along after the two humans, listening with half an ear to their surroundings while thinking about this new faucet of the bond.

_Tony?_

_Yes Lo?_

_Does it not seem overly quiet to you?_

Tony pauses and looks around before sliding his visor down over his face. He reaches out to touch Rogers’ elbow. “Steve,” he whispers, his voice barely audible to anyone without enhanced hearing, “something’s not right. Shouldn’t they know about the door on the roof?”

“Yeah, they should,” Rogers agrees, looking around uncertainly. The two settle into an even more cautious state, and continue advancing slowly.

Internally, Loki sighs, the strange silence unnerving him more than he would like to admit. It feels like they are walking into an ambush, and not one where they are in control. _I am going to scout ahead._

Worry comes from Tony. _I don’t like that._

_How unfortunate for you._ His words only serve to add agitation to Tony’s worry. Loki sighs again. _Would it help if you knew that I am mostly incorporeal at the moment?_

_That depends. Is it a comforting thought?_

Loki considers his words carefully. _I would assume so. Only another sorcerer would offer any sort of danger to me like this, so I am more than safe in this environment._

Tony huffs, the sound loud enough to draw a curious look from Rogers. _Fine, I’ll deal. But you’ve got to keep checking in!_

Loki rolls his eyes. _What kind of useless scout would I be if I did not?_ Tony does not offer a reply.

The god ghosts forward, brushing along Tony when he passes despite knowing that he is unable to feel it, and continues down the hallway. It is badly lit, perhaps to facilitate the idea that the building is unoccupied or more likely because it is so early in the morning.

The early hour irks Loki quite thoroughly; he desires nothing more than to take Tony and return to their bed. Fates know he will be in need of sleep after this. Invisibility is incredibly taxing in his magical reserves, not to mention dangerous to his health if he were to remain in this state for more than a few hours. It is rather hard to put one’s body back together when it has gotten overly used to being incorporeal. He has no intention of informing Tony about this.

Ahead of him is an overly shadowed area of the hall, not exactly noticeable against the rest of the space, completely unremarkable in the bad lighting, and exactly the kind of place Loki would choose for himself. For this reason, he drifts forward curiously, and is slightly disappointed to find it empty. He expected more from the person who makes Romanov so nervous.

By chance, he looks up.

Biting back the curses that would give him away if they flew past his lips, Loki stumbles back, surprised, and forgetting for a brief second that he is undetectable. Positioned on the ceiling and holding himself up by sheer strength of limb is Romanov’s shadow man, his metal arm glinting malevolently in the near dark. Loki must admit that he is somewhat impressed. _The man you are here to subdue is waiting to ambush you around the next corner. He is on the ceiling._

He feels Tony stop and listens to the whispered conversation he has with Rogers through the bond. _Okay, thanks for the warning. Should we let him think we don’t know, or should we jump in with gun a ‘blazing?_

Loki stares at the man, thinking. _Perhaps you shout not attempt to attack him. Something tells me that he will not take well to a surprise, nor would he be used to being outmaneuvered by his prey. Continue on, but be careful._

_Will do._

Settling in to wait, Loki examines the man, attempting to catalogue any potential weaknesses. There are close to none that present themselves, which makes Loki more intrigued than he ought to be. Perhaps a spell that immobilizes his metal arm would be enough to incapacitate him, but Loki does not know enough about his fighting style to determine how much he depends on the artificial limb. It is a conundrum, to say the least, with precious few solutions if Loki insists on remaining invisible. So many spells demand specific physical movements that being incorporeal renders him near useless.

Preparing himself for whatever may happen, Loki tenses as first Rogers and then Tony round the corner. The man waits until they are just past his hiding place, and Loki is again surprised. He had thought that he would jump down on top of them rather than behind. It would seem that this man prefers to be seen before he kills his targets.

A mental prompt from Loki has Tony and Rogers spinning around before the shadow man’s feet even touch the floor, and if he is surprised by that, he does not show it. He attacks in a burst of movement, going first for Rogers and punching away the shield that flies towards him. It ricochets down the hall, landing at a distance that makes it useless to the participants of the fight, a fight that does not last overly long.

Rogers gets in two good hits that send the man stumbling backwards for a short second, and Tony manages to pry off his mask with a well-aimed repulsor blast. Then Loki, realizing that the dark does not offer this man any sort of hindrance, releases a simple spell that floods the area in light from all directions.

The stark quality of the scene afterwards is of a kind that seems unreal. Loki’s light does not allow any sort of shadow, as he is lacking his usual amount of control, and throws all three combatants off-balance. Finally, he sees a measure of shock in the man’s widened eyes, hears a strangled noise fall from Rogers’ mouth, and then the fight is over.

Perhaps sensing that there is more to this encounter than he previously thought, the man presses his flash hand to a contraption on his belt, causing an alarm to blare, and then turns and flees down the hallway. Rogers moves to go after him, but Tony grabs his arm and holds him back. “Steve, remember the plan. The hostages are the most important thing right now.”

“But that was—”

“I know,” Tony sounds shaken, and it is with shock that Loki realizes that the feeling is permeating the bond. He had dismissed it as adrenaline.

_Something significant has occurred._

_Something in the clusterfuck category, definitely,_ Tony agrees, sounding extremely grim.

No further explanation comes. Rogers stands still for a moment longer, staring in the direction of the man, before his face hardens in resolve and he gives Tony a terse nod. “Right. Hostages. Should be harder now.”

Tony sighs. “When was it ever easy?”

****

They take off down the hall at a dead sprint, their overly cautious approach blown to shit with the alarms going off around them. As they move, Tony hears the comms crackle to life.

“We took out their interception equipment, so we can talk as much as we like,” Natasha announces, sounding slightly out of breath. “Which idiot tripped the alarm?”

Tony shoots Steve a worried glance, but the super soldier’s expression doesn’t change. “We did. We ran into your target and he activated it.”

“Where is he now?”

“He fled from the roof,” Steve answers, sounding as grim as he looks. “Who is he, Widow?”

“They call him the Winter Soldier. We don’t know much else. He kills whoever we send to dig.”

A pause follows, punctuated by their harsh breathing, and then Steve speaks again, his voice deathly quiet by comparison. “I know him.”

The only thing through the comms after that are a few quiet words in Russian that sound suspiciously like curses. It gives Tony a sinking feeling.

They run on, relaying positions and ETAs to the main part of the building to the other members of the teams. Despite the alarms blaring and the general air of urgency, they don’t spot a single guard or even a stray technician on their way down. It’s more than worrying.

When they finally meet up with Natasha’s group outside of a pair of steel doors, the expression on her face tells Tony that they’ve been just as ‘lucky’ while they were advancing. She tilts her head towards the doors. “They’re all in there, and the doors are unlocked.”

Loki’s presence shifts uneasily in Tony’s mind. _It is too easy._

Tony can’t help but agree. “We still going in?”

Steve nods grimly. “If those hostages are still alive, we are going to bring them back to safety.”

“And if they’re not?” Natasha prompts softly.

“We bring them back to their families.”

The team nods, and the group of agents disperses to cover either side of the doors and to search for alternate exits. Steve and Tony, as the main firepower, step forward, ready to surge through the door at Natasha’s signal.  

Just before they move, Thor comes around the corner, leading his fellow Asgardians. Despite a few scratches here and there, the group looks relatively fine. “They withdrew from our battle at the sound of an alarm. We gave chase but lost them,” he explains.

“Well shit. Guess you’re charging in with us,” Tony quips cheerfully, giving Thor a sardonic wave.

“You and Steve go first, Thor and his bunch goes in on a secondary charge,” Natasha orders, putting a hand to her earpiece.

Then Clint’s voice crackles through the comms. “All the exits are covered.”

Natasha nods and tilts her head, sending Tony and Steve through the door.


	16. When the Sky Turns Grey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! So, as you might have noticed, I am posting a little early (or maybe you haven't, because it's literally only a day early, but whatever). If I have one good thing to say, it's about the benefits of procrastination ;)  
> (which doesn't have any benefits at all, don't do it)
> 
> So, chapter 16, hooray!
> 
> And thanks to everyone who has commented and left kudos! I literally smile every time I get an email about it :D

Loki hangs back uneasily when Thor leads Sif and the others down the hall. Where normally he could care less about them, perhaps would even welcome the opportunity to harry them, at the moment, a distraction could prove detrimental to Tony’s efforts, perhaps even to his life.

So Loki trails behind, putting what minor protection spells on Tony that he can and cursing himself as a sentimental fool for saving the apples for the ‘right time’. Clearly, there is no right time in this, nor any, universe.

The plans are accordingly adjusted, and the charge begins. Tony and Rogers step through the doors, followed shortly by Thor and the others. Loki waits a second more, planning on following Romanov’s team, when shock and searing anger races through Tony. The god melts through the wall, and is at first unable to comprehend the scene before him.

The room is large. The doors that served as a main entrance in actuality lead to a metal walkway that follows around the upper borders of the room with stairs leading down to the lower floor. The only exits are along the walkway. The floor of the room is teeming with people armed with all manner of weaponry, and dispersed among them are groups of cowering children, whose numbers are greater than that of the guards. Packed with perhaps two hundred humans, a majority of the room’s occupants are young children, the oldest of which looking to be no more than seven, and all dressed as if for sleep. They are arranged in such a way that even with the team’s elevated position, there is no way to engage in hostility without injuring a child.

“Drop your weapons!” A man steps forward, a gun in one hand and a child’s wrist held securely in the other. For a moment, no one on the walkway moves, so the man turns the gun and presses it to the child’s head. The child, a little girl no more than four, begins to cry silently. “Drop your weapons!”

Thor drops Mjolnir immediately, looking enraged beyond belief. Rogers follows suit, and so do the four Asgardians. Tony visibly shuts off his repulsors and lowers his arms.

“Whatever you want, you can have it,” Rogers calls. “Just give us the kids.”

“We’ve already got what we want, Captain,” the man replies, a menacing grin spreading across his face. “A new generation to carry on our great legacy. Heil Hydra!”

“Heil Hydra!” The guards around the room echo his words, and the children shrink back even further. When the children do not join in, the man cuffs the child, growling at the terrified girl to repeat the words.

Thinking quickly, Loki moves himself to the opposite side of the room and sends Tony a warning thought.

The human’s reaction, thankfully hidden by his helmet, is intense. _Lo, there’s got to be a way around it!_

_There is none, and I refuse to allow children to suffer so that I may cower in the shadows._

_It’s not worth the risk,_ Tony disagrees pleadingly.

_When the twins are born, you will think differently,_ Loki responds calmly, preparing himself for the magic he is about to use. _Every child is worth the risk._

****

A massive bang sounds, and guards around the room cry out and drop their weapons, their hands suddenly burned by the metal, and reeling away from the center of the room where Loki stands in a smoldering ring of burnt floor. He’s wearing his elf skin, probably so he doesn’t scare the kids, and his expression is absolutely murderous.

“Thieves!” He cries, raising an arm and slashing it down. Invisible magic slams every Hydra agent against the walls of the room, leaving the children untouched. “Honorless whelps,” he growls, closing his hand in a fist and pulling it close to his body. The agents all fall to their knees, obviously unwillingly, and Loki smirks, his expression dangerously close to what it was on their first meeting. Looks like he never got over the kneeling thing. “You _dare_ prey on children? You _dare,_ in my city?” His voice is deathly quiet, yet it carries to every corner of the room, as if the enraged god is whispering directly into your ears.

A child whimpers, the same little girl that the agent had been threatening, and Loki’s face immediately softens. He slips down to one knee and extends his hand to her. “I am sorry if I frightened you, darling. I am here to take you to safety.”

The little girls regards him with a serious expression that has no business on a child’s face. “You’ll take me to my mama?”

Loki nods. “But I will have to take you to see a man named Phil first. Is that agreeable?” She thinks a bit more before she nods and slips a tiny trembling hand into Loki’s larger one. As if she was the switch, the others cluster around Loki, who surrounds them all in a glittering green web of magic. Tony feels a tug from the bond and looks up to meet Loki’s eyes. _I am borrowing some power from you. Please alert Agent Coulson of our arrival._

Tony nods and Loki disappears, taking the children with him. “Phil, Fray’s about to show up with every single hostage, all children,” he says into the comms, keeping his outside speakers muted.

“What? He shouldn’t be—”

“But he is,” Tony grumbles, cutting off Coulson irritable. “Be on your guard, keep the kids safe.”

Coulson sighs. “Alright, keep me updated.”

Before Tony can even let out a relieved sigh, one of the agents manages to struggle to his feet. _Uh, Loki?_

_I cannot hold the spell forever._

“Ah, shit, it’s not over yet.” Mjolnir flies up into Thor’s hand, Steve grabs his shield, and Tony powers up his repulsors. “Good thing I’m in the mood to beat these guys up.”

“You take care of these cretins, and we will pursue Loki,” Sif calls, turning towards the doors.

“Nat, block all exits to the room, do not let anyone out!” Tony barks before grabbing Sif’s arm and forcing her to face him. “Listen, princess, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but at the moment, I don’t care. You’re here as a member of this team, you follow our orders. Or are you so arrogant that you can’t?”

More and more guards rise uncertainly to their feet, yet Sif glares at Tony, teeth bared, and wasting time. “I owe no honor to you.”

Tony growls, snapping his visor open, and shakes her, his strength equal to hers in the suit. “Let’s get this straight, Sif. Thor counts me as his equal, so I am his equal, and he defers to me on Midgard, which means that I am _your_ superior. Follow your orders or become a target, your choice.” He holds her gaze, refusing to look away until she answers him. He is so fucking _done_ with her superiority bullshit. She’s nearly worse than Loki was.

Thor steps up behind Tony, nodding his agreement, and only then does Sif nod, a single reluctant jerk of her chin, and god does that fucking piss Tony off. He grinds his teeth, holding back the worst of his sarcasm, and levels Sif with a glare. “Great. Now do your job,” he orders, seething, before he flips his visor down and jumps down onto the floor, firing his weapons into the confusion.

Surprisingly, Fandral sticks close to Steve, the two of them flanking Tony while they try and deal of stunning blows, avoiding killing if they can manage it. Hydra operating in New York is a terrifying revelation, and they’ll need information to counteract it, and that necessitates survivors. If one or two guys get their necks broken or something, well, Tony isn’t going to complain.

Throughout it all, Tony keeps an eye on Sif, blaming everything that’s gone wrong on her. Sure, it couldn’t possibly be her fault that over a hundred kids got kidnapped in the small hours of the morning, but hey, it’s a free country, he can be mad at who he wants. Not even fucking sunrise and the day’s already gone to shit.

In the end, a lot of the Hydra operatives take their own lives, save a few that Thor electrocuted into unconsciousness. Turns out the thunder god has a Taser setting. They call in Natasha, who swiftly checks for and removes the cyanide hidden in their mouths, and then ties them up to be transported to a secure facility. While she does that, Tony goes over and pokes at the discarded weapons, which have returned to a normal temperature. They look similar to the ones his dad wrote about in his journals, which explains the weird Tesserect-like readings that were coming off the building. He breathes a sigh of relief that Loki had pretty much disabled them and tells Coulson to be careful when he does cleanup.

When the other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents take away their hostages, Tony watches them go with a headache forming. Their captives will all be dead before morning if the Winter Soldier has anything to say about it. The real problem starts now.

As per their original plan, they leave in separate groups, taking alternate routes back to the alleyway. Sif’s group makes it back before Tony’s, which pisses him off more than it should. He elbows her out of the way, interrupting whatever nonsense she’d been spewing at Coulson, ignoring the outraged sounds he gets in return, and confronts the agent. “The kids?”

“All safe. Their guardians have been contacted and all the families involved have been temporarily moved to secure locations.”

Tony nods, his mood easing a bit. “And Fray?”

“Is still here,” Loki answers, popping into existence beside him.

Tony very nearly grinds his teeth in frustration before he turns to face Loki, who is still wearing Fray’s skin. “You okay? That was a pretty big spell you used.” _What are you doing?!_

Loki inclines his head slightly. “I am fine. Energy can be replenished.” _I am trying to preserve you’re innocence._

_What?_

“I have come to bid my farewell, as I have stayed longer than I should have. I thank you for allowing me onto your team, however temporarily I served alongside you.”

Sif laughs, and it sounds way more sinister than it has any right to be. “Running as usual, Loki?”

Loki frowns, drawing his lip up in a sneer and baring pointed teeth. “You misname me, Asgardian.”

“I do not, Jotun. Cease your spineless flight and face the punishment of the Allfather,” Sif demands, bringing up her staff and pointing the blade at Loki, “or return honorless and bound.” By chance, or maybe because she’s used to Loki pulling blades from nowhere, Sif flicks her eyes down to Loki’s hand and catches sight of his ring, the one that is supposed to be on Tony’s ‘wife’. “I see you have learned new tricks. Tell me, monster, how much did you beg before he agreed to keep you as a pet?”

Raw fury pulses through Tony, and it is reflected in Loki’s eyes. He lets his disguise melt away, and offers Sif a serene smile. “Considerably less than you did when I denied you entry to my bed,” he remarks pleasantly.

Tony blinks as shock takes him, nearly rendering him deaf to the strangled gasps rising around him. Apparently he wasn’t the only one in the dark about this. _What the fuck?_ Loki doesn’t answer him, but new hatred for Sif fills him, the things she’s done to Loki somehow worse for the past they’d shared.

“As if I would beg for the favor of creatures like _you_ ,” Sif spits, flinging something at Loki before anyone can react. The thing, a thin chain of metal, sticks to Loki on contact.

His eyes barely widen before he drops to the ground, writhing and twitching as if he’s being electrocuted. Pain fills Tony, more than enough to incapacitate him, and screaming fills his mind.

Outwardly, he’s silent, the god’s jaws somehow locked closed.

Before Tony’s eyes, the chain is growing, the ends twining around Loki’s form, and Tony knows without a doubt that he needs to get it off before the ends meet. He blasts Sif out of the way and leaps forward, going straight for the chain.

Loki’s eyes fix on him, terror obvious amidst he clouds of pain. _It is siphoning off my power! It will harm the children! GET IT OFF!_

With alarmingly steady hands, Tony does his best, prying off the chain in bits and trying not to hurt Loki. Chaos has erupted around them, and distantly Tony can hear the Hulk roaring, Coulson yelling, and can see flashes of light that must be lightning. Two people stand guard, keeping the chaos at bay as Tony frantically separates the last few links from Loki’s skin. Then the god reaches up to touch his fingers to the arc reactor, using its energy to transport himself and Tony away.

****

Coulson manages to herd the Hulk away just as Tony and Loki disappear. Once he’s sure they’re gone, he rounds on a rather beaten up looking Sif, Volstagg, and Hogun, surprised to see that Fandral stands beside him instead of his friends, and fixes the Asgardians with a glare. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

Sif raises her chin, managing to look haughty despite the fright the Hulk just gave her. “Give us Loki and we will.”

Thor steps forward, glowering. “Leave him.”

“The Allfather has ordered his capture. He is a war criminal!”

“The Allfather,” Thor says lowly, “is wrong. Loki is no more deserving of prison for his actions than we are for anything we have done. I will not hand over my brother, not again.”

“He is not your brother,” she insists. “You are a prince of Asgard!”

“Then you will not be held responsible when you return under my orders,” Thor counters. “And when you arrive, be sure to inform my mother that Loki is not her son after all. The knowledge is sure to bring her relief.” A static silence follows Thor’s words.

It is broken by Fandral. “Sif, end this grudge. Loki was our friend for centuries. He has saved our lives more times than I care to count. Do you not think it our duty and honor to help him now?”

“He will kill you just as soon as he would accept your help,” Sif hisses. “He was born an abandoned runt and he will die in the same shame.”

Fandral regards her carefully and then shakes his head. “Then we have nothing left to discuss. I find that I have lived long enough without my friend.”

Sif levels him with a glare. “So you stand against your people and your king?”

“I do,” Fandral says firmly, while also looking slightly shocked by his own words. Then he turns to his other two friends. “And what say you? This has gone unaddressed for far too long.”

Volstagg shakes his head sadly. “I hear the truth of your words, Fandral, but his mind is broken. He is our friend no longer, and so I stand by my king.” Fandral nods, attempting to hide the disappointment that flashes in his eyes as Volstagg steps towards Sif.

When Hogun, too, moves away, his shoulders visibly slump. “I agree with you,” Hogun says quietly, “and I am sorry, but my loyalty is to Asgard, first and foremost. My personal beliefs fall second to that.”

Thor sighs and Fandral nods grimly. “I cannot fault you for that.”

“Stay safe, my friends,” Hogun cautions. “We will withdraw now, out of respect for you, Thor.”

“I thank you,” the thunderer says, inclining his head.

Sif turns outraged eyes on Hogun, but before she can say anything he turns his eyes skyward. “Heimdall, open the Bifrost.”

Thor sweeps Steve and the others back and away from the Asgardians as they’re swallowed up by the rainbow bridge.

“So,” Fandral says cheerfully, “do you have any room on your team for a homeless god?”

“Plenty,” Clint answers, clapping a hand on Fandral’s arm. “You like pizza?” The two walk away, chatting amicably.

Natasha walks up next to Steve and watches them for a second. “Jarvis says that Tony and Loki arrived back at the Tower.”

Steve sighs, relaxing slightly. “Are they okay?”

“I don’t know, Jarvis wouldn’t say.”

He nods. “Did you tell them that the Asgardians left?”

“I told Jarvis, he said he’d pass it along.”

Silence falls between them and Natasha shifts uneasily. “So who is he?”

Steve frowns and runs a hand over his face. “An old friend. Why are things never easy?”

“Because life exists to fuck you over,” Natasha sighs, sounding old.

“Thought so,” Steve replies morosely. He walks away, a hand to his ear as he asks Coulson whether or not Bruce is himself again. Natasha pauses to scoop up the chain, tucking it into a pouch, before following the others home.

****

Tony and Loki slam into the floor of the lab, making Tony groan in pain, completely unused to the roughness of it. “Fuck, Loki, are you okay?” The god doesn’t speak. He rolls away from Tony and curls in on himself, shuddering as random patches of skin flicker blue for a moment before turning pale again. “Jarvis, full scans, now! Check the Speckles, check his vitals, everything!” Tony orders.

He kneels next to Loki, pushing through the block the god must have initiated from his side of the bond. The second he breaches it, shockwaves of pain pass through him and tremors start to work their way up his spine. Tony groans again and pushes back the pain, enclosing it behind some hastily thrown up shields to block the worst of it from himself and Loki. It takes a few seconds for the last tremor to fade, and with it goes some of the haze that had been building up in Loki’s mind.

Tentatively, Tony reaches out to brush their minds together, and once Loki gives some dim acknowledgement, he lets the magic in the god’s blood carry him through his body. After barely a moment, Tony hisses in sympathy, coming across the first major area of damage. The chain, it seems, had not drained Loki’s magic, but instead ripped it away, sending whatever area it had been resting in into shock.

Jotuns are creatures of magic, and the violence of the rips feels like it’ll leave some massive scarring, at least in the non-physical side of things. Tony can’t tell about the physical stuff until he actually gets a chance to look at it.

Rage and revulsion pulse in Tony, and he has to work to tamp it down. He is going to rip that bitch’s head clean off her shoulders. Grimly, he surveys more of the damage, noticing that the closer he gets to their Speckles the less damage there is. When he finally reaches their ball of light, he sighs in relief. It is completely untouched.

“His vitals are beginning to balance and the twins appear normal, sir,” Jarvis announces.

“I concentrated my power around them,” Loki rasps, drawing Tony back into his own mind.

He looks at the god and reaches out to cup his face. “There’s a lot of damage, Lo.”

The god sighs. “I am aware.” Sitting up slightly, he opens his eyes, and Tony blinks, a small spark of shock going through him.

“You’re kind of mismatched, Lo-lo.”

Loki frowns, one red eye and one green eye narrowing. “How so?”

“You’ve got a Jotun eye and one of your usual green ones,” Tony replies, examining him intently. “I’m guessing it’s a physical manifestation of the scarring?”

Loki sighs, closes his eyes, and rubs a tired hand across his face. “It seems plausible. However, I do not think it will be permanent.”

“We’ll keep an eye on it, then,” Tony says, and Loki snorts. Smiling slightly, Tony gets to his feet and looks down at Loki. “Can you stand?”

Loki grimaces. “Possibly. I will need assistance.” He reaches out and grabs hold of a workbench, using it to pull himself to his feet. Tony rushes over to him so Loki can lean on him as they make their way towards the elevator.

“So how’d you get us back here? You were really out of it.”

“The same way I got here the first time,” Loki answers, grinning when Tony shoots him an incredulous look.

“Holy shit, you are insane.”

“I have never claimed otherwise.”

They stand in silence for a bit as the elevator slowly rises. “So, you and Sif?” Tony asks cautiously.

“It was centuries ago,” Loki answers quietly. “She was different when we were young.”

“Did you love her?”

“No, though I had considered her to be one of my closest friends.”

“Oh,” Tony says eloquently, wincing. He knows how that kind of thing can go.

“Indeed.”

Tony sighs and tightens the arm he has looped around Loki’s waist. “Today is just absolute shit.”

When they finally arrive on their floor, they relax a bit in the familiar surroundings. “The sun is rising,” Loki comments idly, limping over to his chaise by the window and dragging Tony with him. Tony gets Loki settled on the chaise first before sitting next to him and turning to look out of the windows, where the first rays of the day are making their way over buildings.

Tony sighs. “Things just got a lot more complicated.”

“They were never simple,” Loki mumbles, leaning against Tony.

“Why did you stay? Why didn’t you leave when you got the kids out?”

“I was attempting to make the impression that you were unaware of my true identity as well as trying to live up to her expectations of my leaving once a situation has become inconvenient for me. It would have absolved you all of any blame and perhaps sped their leaving.” He sighs. “I had quite forgotten about my ring.”

Tony smirks slightly, the barest twitch of the corners of his mouth. “That was a pretty stupid mistake for someone like you, Lo.”

The god huffs a laugh. “Indeed it was. I must admit that I should have remembered it, but it passed my notice as something that always was and will be, something that does not necessitate singular attention.”

“Mm, sounds about right,” Tony agrees, turning his head so that he can press a kiss to Loki’s temple. “I forgot about the ring too.”

Loki snorts quietly. “Idiots, both of us.”

They relax together, watching the sun rise over New York. At some point, they fall asleep on the chaise, tangled together and completely and utterly exhausted.


	17. For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So, it's sorta late, so sorry! I'm sort of sick, so everything took a back seat this weekend... (including my Latin homework, which is just some awful, awful stuff).
> 
> Chapter sixteen, can you believe it? I mean to start wrapping things up soon, but that is _so_ not going to happen. Ah well. Long stories are fun stories, no?
> 
> Also, I haven't edited anything, and I was writing with a fever. If you guys see any mistakes, either ignore them or let me know and I'll fix 'em! :)

Loki wakes up to the sounds of a whispered conversation. Squinting against the harsh afternoon sunlight, he raises his head and looks over Tony’s shoulder, catching sight of Romanov and Rogers seated quite comfortably on his couch, their faces a mix of concern and exhaustion. “Have you slept yet, little spider?”

She stops in the middle of whatever she was saying to Rogers and turns to Loki with a concerned half-smile. “No. I never can after a fight. Are you okay?”

Loki makes a non-committal noise and drops his head back down. “I have been better.”

“Care to expand on that?” Rogers inquires. “Because everyone’s really worried about you. What did the chain do to you?”

“It tore my power from me, which was unpleasant, to say the least.”

“How bad is it?” Romanov asks, cutting straight to the quick.

With a sigh, Loki reluctantly untangles himself from Tony’s warm form and limps over to join Romanov and Rogers on the couch. “There is scarring, where my flesh was thrown into shock and attempted to retain both of my skins simultaneously, as well as more internal though less physical scars.” He looks up to meet Romanov’s eyes, and she inhales sharply when she meets his. “My eye,” Loki says, gesturing towards it casually, “is an example of one such scar. It is fully functional, of course, so it is not quite an _injury,_ just a little… mismatched.” He explains this carefully as he eases himself into an armchair.

“You hate it,” Romanov remarks softly.

Loki shrugs. “I do not prefer it, if only because it makes my gaze unsettling.”

“If it makes you feel any better, it was pretty unsettling before,” Rogers offers, wringing a small smile out of the god.

“Truly, that is a comfort,” he responds dryly. Then he sighs and leans back in his chair. “The chain… Asgard did not possess a weapon like that, nor anything remotely close. That this was developed or purchased in the months that I have left is… unsettling.”

Rogers frowns. “Why? Nations buy and develop weapons all the time.”

“Not Asgard. It is stagnant. In all my centuries, it has changed very little, and I must admit to being a determining factor in those changes.”

Now Rogers sighs. “Great. I’ll add it to my list of things to worry about.”

Loki quirks an eyebrow. “How long of a list is it?”

“Long enough. I think worrying about an attack from Asgard is number two.”

“The first is Romanov’s Winter Soldier?”

The man sighs again, his shoulders sagging. “Yeah, he is.”

“Tony described the situation as a ‘clusterfuck’?”

“He’s not wrong,” Rogers mutters sarcastically. Loki nods and then casts a look back at Tony’s sleeping form.

Romanov follows his gaze and frowns slightly. “It’s strange for Tony to sleep though a conversation. Usually he’s up with the first noise.”

Loki waves a hand, dismissing her concerns. “He is simply exhausted. There was a considerable amount of mental trauma caused by the chain. He blocked and healed much of it, though I wonder whether or not he knows about the healing part.”

“Oh. He can do that?”

“Among other things. He appears to have a natural talent for mental abilities.”

Romanov snorts. “Fitting.”

“Extremely so,” Loki agrees. Then he pauses, hesitating for a moment, and turns to Rogers. “Perhaps you should push Asgard down to the third item on your list.”

“What? Why?” The man asks sharply, any trace of humor at Tony’s expense gone from his face.

“I have something to fill its spot,” Loki announces sullenly, “and it is far past time that I have told you.”

In precise words, Loki explains about Thanos and his plan, wasting no time on fanciful elaboration. He does not need any to convey the dire quality of the situation. He leaves out the constraints of their time limit, unwilling to share the news of his pregnancy. He knows it is unheard of on Midgard for a male to become pregnant, and though he is not always so, it does not bode well for any reactions he might receive. He would like to imagine that they would react much like Tony had, with fear and awe of the child rather than disgust at the pregnancy itself, but imaginings are smoke in the face of reality. Loki simply does not know.

When his words draw to an end, Rogers stands and begins to pace. “You’ve known for a week?”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t bother telling anyone.”

Loki flinches back from the accusatory tone of his voice, trying to cover it as a shrug. Romanov gives him a sideways glance and he glares at her. “No, we did not.”

“Why?” Rogers demands. “We could’ve started preparing, maybe figured out a plan!”

“A week matters little in the grand scheme of things,” Loki argues.

“That wasn’t your decision to make! We operate as a _team_ , Loki!”

Angrily, Loki throws a sound shield up around Tony, leveling an irritated glare at Rogers. “I am more than aware,” the god growls softly. “However, when I learned of this news, it was the night before my wedding. Forgive the selfish notion, but I desired the chance to truly enjoy myself and relish in my happiness, considering how little the opportunity arises throughout my existence,” he spits, refusing to allow embarrassment from sharing such a personal thought to color his voice. However, he has a feeling that only sentiment will allow him to keep Rogers’ esteem, and the words have their intended effect.

The man flushes red and stares down at his feet. “I’m sorry. You had good reasons. But you still should’ve told us.”

“I had planned to, but there were more immediate issues to deal with. If it is any consolation, we had originally intended to keep the news to ourselves for three days.”

Romanov leans back into the couch and crosses her legs. “So we have just under eight months?”

“That is correct,” Loki sighs, mirroring her pose and steepling his fingers. “The man question now is what are we planning to do about it?”

“At the moment,” Rogers says, tilting his head and scratching behind his ear, “I think we need to have a meeting.”

Gathering the others takes next to no time. Loki is surprised by Fandral’s presence, and shoots Romanov an inquiring glance. She shrugs and gives the barest of nods, allowing him to relax slightly. They gather on the couches on the common floor in what looks like and extremely informal meeting. One only has to look at the tense set of their postures and expressions to know the true gravity of the situation.

Still yawning hugely, he had not taken well to being woken up, Tony drops down on the couch next to Loki. “Alright, let’s get started. First order of business: why is he here?” He points at Fandral, who tries to look as unthreatening as possible in his jeans and plaid shirt.

“He defected,” Romanov supplies casually.

Loki blinks, surprised. “Truly?”

Fandral nods. “We were friends, once, and I have done you a great disservice by forgetting that. Asgard has changed, the Allfather has changed, and _I_ have changed. You do not deserve to be hunted.”

Loki frowns, incredulousness and condescension clear on his face. “I attempted to kill off an entire race. Last I checked, genocide usually necessitates a manhunt.”

Fandral frowns, and sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I cannot argue with the truth of that. Your actions were wrong, even if it was against Frost Giants, but I can say that we have committed far greater evils at the command of our king. We have no right to condemn you.” He pauses here and takes a deep breath. “It is my hope that we can become friends again.”

Loki regards him carefully. “Perhaps, if you prove to be truthful.”

“An odd request, coming from you.”

The trickster’s lips twitch up in a grin. “None but a liar would know the value of the truth.”

Romanov leans forward and tosses the chain onto the coffee table. “Did you know about this?” Loki fights the urge to flinch away from it, turning instead to watch Fandral’s expression.

“I knew she had it, but I was unaware of what it would do. I thought it to be a suppressant, and since Loki had escaped such restraints before, I did not consider it to be an important thing to mention. An advance warning may well have given my thoughts away too early.”

“Understandable,” Loki announces, inclining his head and cutting off any other responses. “Now, in regards to the cause of our gathering…” This being the third recount of the news, Loki quickly goes over all the necessary information, spitting out Thanos’ name with hatred.

Upon hearing it, Fandral pales. “The Mad Titan? By the fates, Loki! You do not do things by halves.”

“It was unintentional,” Loki answers, fixing his mismatched gaze on Fandral’s incredulous face. “Are you still with us?”

The Asgardian sits straighter in his seat. “Now more so than ever.”

Tensions run high for about a week as everyone tries and fails to come up with a decent plan of attack that does not involve fighting on earth. It is simply not feasible to plan the defense of an entire planet, especially when their forces are so small. It is during this week that it is also generally agreed upon that waiting is awful.

Excepting Loki, Thor, and Fandral, every member of the Avengers is used to the attacks that come without warning, requiring immediate action. Rogers, at least, has experience planning long campaigns, but has never participated in one of this length, nor has he any experience with a battle ground that has the potential to consume an entire planet. As a result, the first week is near frantic, every member desperate to build their list of allies, seek possible information, and prepare.

Loki waits for them to calm down, knowing that they will not make any significant progress until the desperation has faded from the air.

By the end of that week, Tony has taken to hiding in his lab and running tests on the chain, trying to figure out how to counteract its effects and avoiding the other residents of the tower.

Rogers has taken to muttering to himself, pouring over the star maps Loki provided for him and trying to determine the best point of interception for Thanos’ fleet, assuming they continue on the same route and hoping someone will actually discover a means of interception, which is the major inhibitor in their planning. When he is not planning, Rogers spends much of his time staring at nothing, preoccupied with his Winter Soldier. It is concerning, to say the least. Loki decides to watch him carefully.  

Romanov and Barton rarely put in any appearances, attempting to secure support in their own unique way.

After the initial recounting of the news, Banner had insisted on taking Loki down to his lab and running tests to discern the extent of the damage inflicted by the chain. After slight hesitation, Loki had followed him, confident in his knowledge that Banner would be unable to detect the pregnancy, and if he did, probably not know what he found. They had discovered that aside from his eye, Loki also had several slashes of blue skin, the largest of which spreads down over his left shoulder in a design reminiscent of lighting. All of the marks, save his eye, are slightly raised, looking more scar like than they actually are. Banner had theorized that this is because of the innate biological differences between the two types of skin.

Though he is loath to admit it, but after several hours of discussion with Banner, Loki’s confidence in the fact of the marks fading dims somewhat. His magic, no doubt, will recuperate fully, as it is already doing, but the marks might never leave, a situation that is unfamiliar to the god. Rapid healing tends to leave the injured without scars. When Loki tells Tony of this, the human shrugs and makes sure to lavish attention on every single one of the god’s new scars.

Of all the members of their team, Banner seems the most unbothered by the news, and the calmest by far. He leaves the major planning to the others and instead begins to stock up on medical supplies and reads through several medical journals to ‘refresh his memory’. His approach, in Loki’s opinion, is the most productive and reasonable. As a result, he spends much of his time in Banner’s presence, enjoying the calmness of the atmosphere as they wait for the frenzy of the first week to fade.

Thor and Fandral he actively avoids, unwilling to deal with the Asgardians any more than necessary with his mismatched eyes. It is horrendously vain, he will admit to it, but Loki knows what they will think when confronted so obviously with Jotun physiology.

It is a slow week.

Halfway through the third week since they discovered the news, and the second since he shared it with the others, Loki wanders into the kitchen to find Romanov sitting at the breakfast bar, clad in pajamas and glaring into a mug of coffee. “Have you had any luck searching out allies, little spider?” Loki inquires, going through the cupboards and beginning to prepare tea for himself.

She sighs. “Fury is blocking us at every turn. He thinks we’re gathering support for a resistance against S.H.I.E.L.D., which is reasonable. Even my friends on the inside are in over their heads with missions and dealing with the Winter Soldier. It looks like we’re going to have to do this alone.”

“I thought as much,” Loki remarks softly. He picks up his now finished tea and goes to sit next to the assassin.

“You knew we wouldn’t get any help?”

“I had my suspicions. We have a major government organization as an enemy in an unstable world. Surely the thought has crossed your mind?”

She scrunches up her face and punches Loki in the shoulder. “Of course it ‘crossed my mind’. I just didn’t want to believe it.”

“Mortal optimism,” Loki sighs, ending with a smirk and earning another punch.

At that moment, Tony stumbles into the room and yawns. “Morning.” He walks over to kiss Loki soundly, which pleases the god to no end, before going to the coffee machine. “I made some progress with the chain yesterday.”

“How much?” Romanov asks.

“Not much, but enough that I finally feel like I’m getting somewhere. You have any luck?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Fuck. Ah well, it’s usually just us anyways.”

“You took that news well.”

“I didn’t really expect us to get help anyways.”

She makes a frustrated sound and throws her hand up. “The both of you are so pessimistic. How do you even sleep at night?”

“Fucking each other senseless usually helps,” Tony answers, taking a huge gulp of his coffee and wincing as the hot liquid scalds his mouth.

A disgusted noise comes from the doorway. “You guys would probably fuck through the end of the world,” Barton grumbles.

“A viable option, should everything go badly,” Loki agrees with mock solemnity.

“It’s a real comfort to have you on our side, asshole,” Barton says, sticking out his tongue and presenting Loki with his middle finger. The god chuckles and finishes his tea.

****

It takes an additional week for Tony’s progress to make any significant headway. By this point, the genius is pissed, unused to having to spend so much time studying a single thing with only minimal results. His ‘breakthrough’ comes from the discovery from discovering that the metal is nothing like anything that can be found on earth.

When he confronts Loki about it, the god shrugs. “It is probably made of uru. Usually I would be able to tell by touching it, but I am sure you understand my… reluctance.” Which is totally an acceptable answer, but not exactly helpful to Tony. So he questions Loki about the metal and its properties, learning about dwarves (which are apparently totally like Tolkein’s, which gives Tony a nerdgasm) and their agreement with the Æsir in regards to weapons and intricate metalwork. Dwarvish work is the best in the universe, but they are a stubborn and closed off race, preferring to keep their work to themselves.

“That this is uru means that it can be safely assumed as dwarvish work, and that tells us two things: the first is that the metal has been enchanted by someone who is not a dwarf, and the second is that it is most likely possible to negate the effects,” Loki explains, carefully going over the scans and notes on Tony’s screens.

“Most likely?”

“The nature of the spell may hinder the use of another spell, but the fact that it is indeed a spell in origin means that it can be undone and that it has a weakness,” the god succinctly. “And for today, I believe that is more than enough progress. Come to bed?”

“But I just figured it out!” Tony protests, unwilling to leave his work now that he finally _knows something._

“No pursuit of the future is worth sacrificing the present,” Loki murmurs softly, wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist and pressing kisses along his neck. “It is a lesson that I have learned quite thoroughly. Now, come to bed.”

“Damn silver tongue,” Tony mutters, melting into Loki’s touch.

“Not called so only for speaking,” Loki breathes with a quick nip to Tony’s ear. Faced with that kind of wisdom, Tony nods and powers down his lab for the night.

****

Another week flies by, the time passing faster than the god had thought it would. Their first month is already gone, lost to the passing of time. Despite how seemingly hopeless their situation looks, there has been some improvement to life inside the tower. The humans have learned that much of this ‘battle’ will be spent waiting, and their desperate approach has cooled somewhat, thought the sense of impending doom has remained.

It is at this point that Loki decides that his ‘right time’ has indeed arrived. “Jarvis, please tell Tony and the others to come up to my floor.” The god speaks his request quietly, without looking up from his book. The AI responds in the affirmative, and minutes later the team surrounds him, though Tony has yet to arrive.

As his husband is the most important factor—to him, anyways—Loki ignores the curious questions directed his way, electing instead to continue reading his book. The questions die down to an odd silence, broken by muted conversation as the others talk amongst themselves.

Fandral, at one point, stands and begins to walk around the room, peering curiously at the books adorning the shelves. Loki watches him carefully from the corner of his eye. He does not trust him, but he is not willing to cast away the extra help. About fifteen minutes later, Tony finally arrives, clad in oil-stained clothes and sporting minor burns on his hands.

Once the engineer has settled on the couch next to him, Loki reaches out absently with cool blue fingers to heal his hand. Then he turns to face the others. “To answer some of your earlier questions, no, I have no more information than before, and no, I have not miraculously conjured an effective plan. However, I do have something that can give us an advantage, but there are consequences.”

“Leave the gloom and doom for later,” Barton says, looking supremely unconcerned. “What’s this advantage?”

Loki raises an eyebrow at him. “Very well.” He reaches over his shoulder, enjoying the confused faces around him, and pulls the bag of apples from his pocket dimension. Tony makes an intrigued noise at the magic, but Loki waves away his questions impatiently. He keeps the burlap bag tightly closed and does not look away from it as he speaks. “I can grant you the same strength that I and Thor possess, with the same rapid healing and endurance.” He stops here, hesitating.

“But?” Romanov prompts, looking as if she already knows the answer and is only asking for the benefit of the others.

“With it comes the same longevity. With it comes centuries and perhaps even millennia of existence,” Loki answers quietly. “I will not lie and claim that a life of this length is not a burden, and I will not deny that there are some… selfish motivations in my offering you this, but the choice remains yours.” Fandral’s mouth falls open as Loki upends the bag onto the coffee table, spilling out a dozen golden apples.

 Tony leans forward inquisitively, but he does not touch them. “Isn’t this a Greek thing?”

“Not quite, no.” Loki watches his husband’s face, waiting for the implications of the apples to sink in. He does not have to wait long.

“Wait, if I eat one of these I’ll live as long as you?”

“Provided neither one of us is killed,” Loki says, smiling a bit at the end. Almost before he can blink, Tony snatches an apple and takes a large bite out of it, chewing thoughtfully before he swallows.

“That has got to be the best tasting apple that I have ever had.”

“I should hope so, Iðunn prides herself on them.” Loki’s voice hitches oddly, and he tries to hide it behind his usual sarcasm. He had expected Tony to think about it, not to eagerly jump at the chance to give Loki eternity.

A few bites later, Tony catches on to Loki’s train of thought and sets the apple aside to pull the god into a kiss. His lips are sweet and his mind envelops Loki’s in warmth. “Of course I want you for eternity,” he whispers softly, pressing another quick kiss to the god’s lips before picking up his apple and continuing to eat it. In a fit of weakness, Loki lets out a happy sigh and then closes his eyes, attempting to gather himself before once again addressing the others. He cannot quite manage to keep the smile out of his eyes.

“The offer will stand past today, so feel free to take all the time you need to think on it.”

Rogers picks up an apple, examining it carefully, and then shrugs. He begins to eat it, pausing like Tony had, probably surprised by the taste.

“Steve?” Tony asks, voice dripping with curiosity. Rogers shrugs again. “I’m nearly 96 years old. How much difference is another couple centuries when I’ve probably got a few more anyways?”

Banner’s face takes on a thoughtful quality. “Good point. I wonder if this will help me with the Other Guy?” He muses, reaching out to snag an apple for himself. Then, seemingly decided, Romanov retrieves an apple for herself and tosses one to Barton. She smirks at Loki’s incredulous look, but offers no explanation.

“I’ll probably get assassinated before I manage to hit a century anyways,” Barton grumbles, starting to nibble on his apple.

Romanov laughs at that. “Exactly. And don’t go thinking we like you or anything,” she adds on teasingly, her voice making it clear that they do indeed like him and that that is a significant factor in their decision.

For a second, Loki is unable to understand what she means, and he stares around the room in slight shock. No one contests her words, and Loki feels his lips part slightly. Too many emotions shine in his mismatched eyes, the raw truth of his feelings much too close to the surface to be easily concealed. Almost absently, Tony reaches out to tangle his and Loki’s fingers together, finishing the last of his apple and jumping straight into a conversation with the others.


	18. You Tell Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm not dead or anything... I am so sorry for the massive delay. So sorry! See... life, you know... it gets in the way. So so so sorry!
> 
> Also, you might see "~~~~" in this chapter (and in other chapters after this), and it means that time passes but there is no change in POV.
> 
> Here's the most recent chapter! So sorry again!

Loki listens distantly to Banner’s enthusiastic plans for taking blood samples and comparing the changes to their systems while trying to regain control over himself. It takes a few minutes, but he manages.

“We should do some training sessions,” Rogers suggests. “Figure out whatever new limitations there are and see how much of a change in strength there is in you guys.”

“You will note a change in strength as well, Rogers,” Loki comments, leaning forward and gathering the rest of the apples up to tuck them away.

“Seriously? I can already hold my own against you.”

Loki shrugs. “The apples improve on what is already present. You should begin to notice changes by the morning.”

“Blood samples in two days, then,” Banner orders sternly. Everyone nods, not daring to deny the doctor’s request.

Then Tony claps his hands together, drawing the room’s attention to him. “Alright everyone, now that that’s settled, get out. I’m suddenly very distracted by my husband.” Loki smirks and leans back in his seat while pulling Tony nearly on top of him. The others very nearly sprint away to the elevator, as if fearful that Loki will begin to ravish his husband while they bear witness.

The thought makes Loki snort. As if he would ever allow others to see what he can do to Tony. Tony is _his_ and no one else’s. “What have you got in mind, darling?” Loki whispers into Tony’s ear, smirking all the while.

Tony laughs. “A bit of this and a bit of that. Oh! And a rope.” Images find their way into Loki’s mind, courtesy of his husband’s imagination, and Loki groans. Unable to resist, he nips Tony just below his ear and then sucks on the spot, enjoying the shudder that runs through the man when Loki returns his own, edited, images.

“Will that do?” He purrs.

“Well, if you insist, I guess I could go along with—” Tony’s words end in an undignified yelp as Loki picks him up and tosses him over his shoulder. Laughter follows, and then a chuckled groan. “This is so unmanly, Lo.”

The god laughs as he walks over to their bedroom. “You have my word that I will not tell a soul.”

“Except Natasha,” Tony grumbles, “and Steve, and Clint when you want to bother him, and probably—”

Again, Loki cuts him off, this time with a deft maneuver that ends with Tony’s legs wrapped around his waist and his lips claimed in a searing kiss. “Not a soul,” the god promises, smirking at the dazed look on Tony’s face.

“Uh huh, sure thing, Reindeer Games,” Tony pants. Then he wiggles his hips, moaning delightedly at the friction this gets him. “So are you going to fuck me or not?”

“Such impatience,” Loki murmurs. He presses a quick kiss to Tony’s lips and then dumps him onto their bed. Tony grins up at him, a bruise already forming under his ear and his hair is in complete disarray. Loki smirks, his expression softened with a multitude of emotions. This. He has this for eternity. The thought still leaves him slightly bewildered.

“Forever yours and all that jazz, Lo-lo, and I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Tony says softly. “Now, are you going to do something or am I taking care of myself?”

“Idiot,” Loki growls affectionately. He steps forward and with a twitch of his fingers, they are both gloriously naked.

“ _Finally,_ ” Tony moans, reaching for Loki eagerly.

Another twitch of the god’s fingers has Tony’s arms stretched up above his head, bound by invisible ropes. “Not quite yet,” Loki admonishes, looking at Tony with a smug grin.

A slow smile spreads across his husband’s face. “Do your worst. I _dare_ you.”

Loki _tsks,_ pacing around the bed and examining Tony from every angle. “As you wish.”

****

Two awesomely mind-blowing orgasms later, Tony stretches out next to Loki with a satisfied sigh. “We are _so_ doing that again.”

“We still have a rather large list to work through,” Loki says seriously, pulling Tony close to him. “How fortunate that time is not an issue.”

“Yeah,” Tony agrees. “Except that it sort of is, at the moment. I’m heading back to the lab. Want to come with me?”

Loki sighs and then shakes his head mournfully. “Truly, my ability to keep my husband in bed is unparalleled.”

Tony grins unapologetically. “Your husband is very close to a breakthrough,” he teases, kissing Loki once more before rolling out of bed. “Where did you magic my clothes to?”

“To the garbage where those disgusting rags belong.”

Tony huffs, disgruntled, and grabs a pair of sweats from the closet. “Rude.”

The god eyes him from the bed, a ghost of a smile pulling up the corners of his mouth. “Those pants are mine.”

“Not anymore, sweet-cheeks,” Tony singsongs, pulling on the first band t-shirt his fingers find. “So are you coming down with me or not?”

“I shall remain here,” Loki says, stretching out leisurely on the bed. “I have a book to finish.”

Once he finishes dressing, Tony goes to kiss Loki again—because why the fuck not?—and makes his way down to the lab.

An idea comes to him in the elevator. “Jarvis, what’s Steve doing?”

“Captain Rogers is pacing through his rooms, sir,” the AI answers quickly.

Tony hums thoughtfully. “Summon him down to the lab.”

“Summon, sir?” Jarvis replies cheekily, making Tony laugh.

“Just call him down and cut the sass, smart-ass.”

“As I do not possess a posterior, its level of intelligence is irrelevant, sir,” Jarvis quips, sounding pleased with himself. “Captain Rogers is on his way, sir.”

Tony almost doesn’t hear the second part over his fit of giggles. Jarvis has been spending way too much time around Loki.

Stepping out into the lab, Tony runs his fingers through the air, grinning and never failing to enjoy the sight of his workshop lighting up for him. DUM·E whirs in greeting and goes to get the chain, which is his assigned duty for the time being. When he makes it to the workbench without incident and lays it out properly, Tony makes sure to congratulate him. Delighted robot noises are a much better background sound than depressed ones.

A few minutes later, Steve walks into the lab and looks around carefully. “Tony?”

“Over here,” Tony calls, stepping out from behind a massive wall of holograms.

Steve looks over the swirling graphs with interest and a bit of confusion, distracted from whatever thoughts that had been filling his mind as he came down. “What is all this?”

“I’m trying to find a flaw in the energy around the chain. There’s no fucking way I’m going to let him get hit by this again,” Tony says with grim determination. Then the hard expression fades from his face and he gives Steve a more concerned look. Or at least, as concerned as he can manage. “But that’s not what I summoned you here for.”

“Why are you saying ‘summoned’?”

“Because it sounds more impressive,” Tony snarks. “Anyways, it’s been about three weeks, so the polite ‘wait for you to approach me’ window has closed. Don’t say I didn’t try it.”

Steve frowns. “What are you talking about?”

Instead of answering immediately, Tony goes over to a dark corner in the lab and digs around in a cupboard, surfacing with an old framed black and white photograph. “Looks like the only person in this picture who’s actually dead is my dad.” He passes the photograph over to Steve, whose expression makes him look his real age.

In the photograph, three men stand side by side, laughing. Howard Stark looks half insane with singe marks on his face and clothes and with his hair in a complete mess. Steve looks impeccable as usual in full uniform without a single hair out of place. Next to him is a third man, seemingly lost in a fit of giggles. “Bucky,” Steve sighs, tracing his finger over the man’s form. “So you recognized him.”

“Yeah, pretty quickly. He was one of my heroes as a kid.”

The super-soldier gives him a sideways glance. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Tony pauses, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “See, my dad was never the story telling type, and usually I’d go weeks without seeing him at all. But sometimes, if I did something right or if he was drunk enough and in the right mood, he’d tell me old war stories about you guys.” He sighs. “I lived for the stories of Captain America and the Howling Commandos. Bucky was my favorite, and I liked hearing about little Steve too. When I was a kid, I used to imagine that I’d find you and then you’d be my friend and my dad would be proud of me.”

“You hated me when we met,” Steve says quietly.

“Of course I did. I was competing with you for my entire life, and you weren’t even there! It’s really hard to be fifteen and trying to live up to Captain America.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Tony shrugs. “It’s what people do, isn’t it? Say something personal so the other person doesn’t feel as self-conscious?”

Steve laughs, a single puff of air from his nose. “Where did you learn that?”

“Movies. So, your best friend isn’t actually dead, he’s also probably brain-washed, and you’ve known for three weeks. Any thoughts?”

“Well you sure are subtle, aren’t you?” Steve says, and then he turns around to look at a screen and stays silent.

Tony shrugs and settles in to work, more than used to waiting for an answer thanks to Loki. On his screens, an equation is forming; bits and pieces are coming together that will hopefully form a whole picture. Tony smothers an exasperated sigh and glares at the chain. He really hates it when his work depends on _hopefully._

A few more minutes pass in silence, and then Steve finally speaks, drawing Tony’s attention away from the stupid chain. “He looked right at me, but he didn’t recognize me. It was definitely him, but at the same time, it wasn’t him. I don’t underst— I _saw_ him die, but I guess he didn’t. I thought he was gone; we didn’t go back to find him, there were so many people depending on us that I couldn’t risk them for my best friend’s body.” Steve takes a shaky breath. “If I’d known—”

“I’m going to stop you right there, Cap. You should seriously consider avoiding that thought ‘cause I’ve been told by a lot of people that it’s pointless and unhealthy.” Tony doesn’t look away from his computer screen as he says this, having learned long ago that people don’t really appreciate an audience while they’re in pain. He types in some more figures , pretending to be nonchalant about the whole thing.

He’s pretty sure Steve sees through it. “Who told you that?”

“You did, for one, Natasha too, even Loki’s mentioned it. Except his was more like ‘regret solves nothing because the dead don’t care and the living are past forgiveness’ or something like that.”

“That sounds like him,” Steve agrees, sounding more amused by the idea than offended. “I have to admit that the theory is a bit easier than application, though.”

“Understandable,” Tony nods, and then he spins around in his chair. “But it’s still a waste of energy. Instead of thinking about how much it sucks, why don’t you start thinking about how you’re going to fix it.”

Surprise flashes across Steve’s face. “What?”

“Seriously, Rogers, this is a golden opportunity! Well,” Tony backtracks, “sort of. It’s a bit tarnished, but,” he holds up his finger, “that’s the good thing about gold. It can be polished.”

Steve just stares at him, mouth agape. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Bucky!” Tony practically yells. “Your _best friend_ from over _seventy years ago_ is _alive._  We have three gods, a rage monster, two magically enhanced assassins, a genius, and _you_ on our team, and we will do everything we can to help you. So, what are you going to do about Bucky?”

“I don’t know. Find him, see if I can make him remember?”

Tony nods sagely. “Sounds like a plan. Hash it out, figure out the details and let us know when it’s time to act.”

“Why are you so eager to help him? Usually you don’t even care about yourself.”

Pausing thoughtfully, Tony chooses his next words very carefully. “Because it’s not just me anymore. I’ve got people to look out for and I can’t do that properly by myself. You get the double honour of being one of those people and being someone I depend on to help me at the same time. This Bucky thing is consuming you.”

Steve sighs, slumping back in his chair. “You’re right. I hate it, but you’re right. I’ll… try and think of something.”

“Sounds good,” Tony says lamely, completely unsure of how to end a heart-to-heart (which is why he usually avoids them).

Steve sighs and gives him a half-smile, probably recognizing Tony’s dilemma. “Want some company while you work?”

“Sure. Help me pick out anomalies in the energy signature.”

“Okay?”

Tony sighs, and a simply explanation later, Steve is seated at his own screen circling random dips and spikes in the graphs. “Why am I doing this?”

“We’re looking for a weakness in the spell.”

“Oh.” Steve continues on his work and then he makes a confused face. “Spell? I thought this was energy?”

“Yeah,” Tony agrees, not exactly hearing the entire question. Steve just snorts and shakes his head before he focuses again on the screen.

****

Blood tests, while decidedly useful, strike Loki as utterly unnecessary and unpleasant. Of course, the results are rather interesting, but Banner will not stop shooting disappointed looks at the god whenever they talk about them. Loki had, of course, refused to allow the man to take his blood. In other circumstances he would have perhaps allowed it, but currently… it is too much of a risk.

Tony has apparently felt the need to repeatedly drop hints about informing the others of his pregnancy. It took the better part of a week for Loki to snap and order him to stop. His infuriating husband had merely held up his hands in surrender and made some idiotic comment suggesting that Loki ‘cool his shit’. Decidedly unamused, Loki had banned Tony to the lab. At first, the human had scoffed and thought nothing of it, but when evening came and he was still prohibited from their floor, with really no end in sight, he started the apologies. Loki did not let him up until the small hours of the morning, and then really only because the bed was much too cool and much too empty without his husband to fill it. Wisely, Tony did not comment on it and instead pulled the god into his arms and went to sleep quickly.

The next morning, however, Loki wakes up not in comfort, but feeling decidedly odd. He frowns, confused for a handful of seconds, before the oddness solidifies into an intense nausea. Loki shoots up out of bed, roughly shoving Tony off of him, and sprints to the bathroom where he is violently sick in the toilet. Tony is barely a second behind him, having caught on fairly quickly, and arrives just in time to hold Loki’s hair back and run soothing hands over the god’s forehead and neck.

“What in the world is this?” Loki moans, sitting back and cleansing his mouth with a spell. The urge to vomit is gone, but he still feels awful. “I am not ill.”

Tony’s brow scrunches and he looks at Loki with slight confusion. “Uh, I’d guess morning sickness? The internet said it’d start around 8 weeks, maybe earlier or later depending.”

Tony’s explanation does nothing to clarify the situation. “Morning sickness?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s a thing that happens to pregnant people, usually when they’re about two months pregnant, but it can happen earlier or later and it’s not actually limited to the morning either. Has this never happened to you or do you just call it something different on Asgard?”

“I have no experience with this, nor have I heard of such a thing before.”

“So maybe it’s just because I’m human?” Tony muses, looking curious but unconcerned.

Loki shrugs and gets up from where he is seated on the floor. “I care not for its cause. At least it is done now.” When Tony does not only stay silent but shifts uneasily as well, Loki pauses and turns. “It is over, is it not?” His voice is dangerously near furious, and Tony squirms under his glare.

“Well, uh, you see Lo, the internet sort of says that this is going to keep happening for, um, a couple of weeks…” His voice trails off near the end and he looks horrendously guilty.

“Mortals!” Loki spits, turning on his heel and stomping off to the closet. “Even your biology is inferior! It is a wonder you idiots survived this long,” he growls, viciously pulling on some clothes as he speaks.

“C’mon, Lo, it’s not like I did this on purpose,” Tony calls, scrambling after the god. “Why are you so upset? It’s just a little nausea.”

“Truly?” Loki mutters sarcastically. Then he pauses, a thoughtful look coming over his face. “Hmm… Darling,” he purrs, beckoning to Tony with a crooked finger, “come here for a moment.”

Looking appropriately afraid for his life, Tony edges forward, glancing from side to side like a trapped animal. When he gets close enough for Loki to touch him, he god reaches out and traces a finger down his husband’s chest, stopping over the arc reactor. “Since it is ‘just nausea’,” he murmurs, drawing energy from the reactor and casting a quick spell, “then you should not mind sharing it with me.”

Tony shudders as the spell settles over him, and then he turns accusing eyes on Loki. “What did you do?” The god smirks and saunters away, offering no explanations and feeling decidedly smug.

That evening, when the nausea strikes again (‘morning sickness’, it seems, is an extremely inaccurate title), Loki is joined by Tony, who will from now on be receiving every wave of nausea that the god experiences as his own. It is not a necessarily enjoyable agreement, but Loki derives satisfaction from Tony joining him in his discomfort.

“I fucking _hate_ you,” Tony grumbles, rinsing his mouth for the second time.

Loki smirks. “Darling, I can assure you that the feeling is mutual.” For some inexplicable reason, Tony finds this hilarious. He starts to laugh, and he keeps laughing until his breath comes in great heaving gasps. Loki watches him with a raised brow and an amused half-grin.

Finally catching his breath, Tony sighs. “We are so fucked up.” Loki sighs and shakes his head, unable to fully hide his smile as he stalks from the room.

~~~~

“Argh!” Barton exclaims, stabbing his food with more violence than the action demands. Romanov just shakes her head and ignores him, but the others trade looks of confusion. The archer had been sitting quietly until his outburst.

“What’s wrong with Merida?” Tony quips in a stage whisper, trying to look secretive as he talks to Banner.

Barton cracks a smile. “I jus’ want to change ma fate,” he replies, his voice contorted in a horrible accent. Loki does not bother to cover a snort at the archer’s antics. However, Barton’s good humor vanishes just as quickly as it had arrived. His face falls into a frown and he glowers at his meal. “But seriously though, it’s been nearly two months and we’ve still got nothing but an ETA. I feel so useless!” General grumbles of agreement rumble around the table. “Why’d it have to be space?” Barton whines, murdering his chicken anew with his fork. “Why couldn’t it have been somewhere we can actually get to?”

“If it was even remotely like the first time it’d be so much easier,” Tony says, nodding his head in agreement with either himself or Barton. Loki is never sure what sort of idiotic ideas fly through his husband’s head.

“Easier and a hell of a lot more property damage,” Banner mutters.

“Like the first time,” Rogers muses, sounding thoughtful. Then his eyes widen and he sits straighter, looking shocked by his own thoughts. “Like the first time!” He exclaims, as if his words are the answer to all of their problems.

Loki spends a moment in confusion, but then realization dawns on him. “The machine.”

Rogers nods excitedly. “I’m sure they still have it, or at least the plans for it.”

Then Romanov too joins them in understanding. “There’s no way they would’ve destroyed something so valuable.” She leans forward and rests her elbows on the table. “That could work.”

Tony and Thor share a look of confusion, an occurrence so rare that Loki would have laughed were he not otherwise occupied. Banner’s face remains blank, and Fandral leans forward with a curious tilt to his head. “Care to educate the masses?”

“The device Loki used to open the portal the first time. S.H.I.E.L.D. confiscated it after the battle. We can use it again!” Rogers explains, obviously relieved at having some sort of plan.

“I—oh,” is Tony’s eloquent response. He sits back in his seat, his eyes already glazing over with the possibilities.

“If we did somehow gain access to this device, how would we use it? We have no access to the Tessarect,” Thor intones carefully, eyeing Loki as he talks.

The trickster rolls his eyes. “No, Thor, I am not planning on breaking into the vault and stealing the Tessarect, though it would be ridiculously easy.” Thor’s face takes on an offended expression, but he has the good sense not to argue with Loki. “No,” Loki says with a hint of pride and a hint of challenge, “I am sure that my husband is more than capable of creating a substitute.”

About a second passes in utter silence, and then Tony grins maniacally. “Oh, this is going to be fun.” He abandons the rest of his food and practically leaps out of his chair in his rush to get to the lab.

“Tony,” Rogers chastises, “the world is at stake!”

“Isn’t it always?” Tony singsongs, dangerously close to skipping to the elevator.


	19. With the Darkness Fed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's late again, I know, I'm sorry!! 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's left kudos and comments, you guys make me happy!!

Just after he leaves, Tony’s voice rings out in Loki’s mind. _You work on getting the machine; I’ll do the power source._ Shaking his head at his husband’s antics, the god sends agreement through all the same.

He then turns to Romanov. “What are our chances of convincing Fury to hand over the device?”

“Slim to none.”

Loki hums thoughtfully. “How unfortunate. My apologies, Thor, but it seems that theft will be necessary after all.”

“I only wish you would not look so eager for it,” Thor says with an air of defeated acceptance.

Loki smirks, looking indeed entirely too thrilled with their plan. “A little chaos is balm for the soul.”

“Well if you put it like that,” Barton laughs, shaking his head.

“We should still try asking,” Rogers insists, always the righteous one.

Loki rolls his eyes and sighs. “If you insist.”

~~~~

“Hello, director.”

The man standing in the room jumps before turning an angry eye on the god. His hand hovers near the folds of his leather coat, no doubt itching to go for the gun hidden there. “How the fuck did you get in here?”

Loki smirks and raises an eyebrow, enjoying the look on Fury’s face as he passes a hand through the director’s chair. “I did not,” he answers seriously. Then he grins. He is nothing but an illusion.

Fury does not relax his stance, but then, Loki had not expected him to anyways. “Why are you here?”

“To warn you.”

“Of…?” The director’s voice carries an air of casual disinterest, and the tone irritates Loki.

“There are forces on route to Earth, and they will arrive in four months’ time.” Loki allows a slight shudder to wrack his frame, all the while looking as if he is working to suppress it. He sees Fury focus on the seemingly involuntary movement. “I propose a temporary alliance to ensure our mutual safety.”

After a few silent seconds of looking supremely unimpressed, Fury lets out a harsh bark of laughter and turns away from the god. “I don’t believe you, and frankly, I expected better.”

“My apologies. Had I known what was expected of me, I would have prepared a speech,” Loki responds sarcastically. “However strange this may sound, I speak the truth, though your cooperation is not necessary. I am sure you know of Agents Romanov and Barton’s recent attempts—”

“At gathering support. Yeah I know.” The director’s gaze returns to Loki. “But I don’t know _why_ , and I don’t trust your word. For all I know, you could just be trying to secure your position as an independent group.”

Thinking about his team and their complex notions of loyalty, Loki shakes his head. “Absurd.”

“Is it?” Fury questions. “You don’t have that great of a track record. In fact, nobody does, not even Rogers. You’ve all thrown away orders for one reason or another, and I know you’re thinking they’re too loyal for that, but it’s not _me_ they’re loyal to. You’re smart. It shouldn’t take you long to figure out why I can’t trust you. _I can’t take that risk._ ”

Unfortunately, the director’s words make an alarming amount of sense. “Your reluctance is… understandable,” Loki concedes. “Perhaps, then, if not an outright alliance, you would be willing to provide a small amount of assistance? Off the record, of course.”

“Such as?”

“We require the device that was used to open the portal.”

Any trace of good humor or even casual disinterest falls from Fury’s face. “No.”

“It is necessary.”

“I don’t give a shit. That’s a bigger risk than anything else. I’ll put out a general alert and we’ll send up some specialty satellites, and that’s all I’m willing to do at the moment. Now get the fuck out before I send armed forces over to your tower. I’ve got bigger problems than _you_ to deal with.”

Irritation fills Loki, though he does not allow it to color his face nor voice. “Very well. Have a pleasant evening, Director Fury.” The, because he can, and perhaps also out of spite, Loki transforms the director’s chair—an expensive looking thing—into a pile of kittens. Using magic through an illusion takes more energy than it is usually worth, but it is not impossible, and in this case, the benefits far outweigh the costs. The god scoops up a kitten, using a solidifying spell on himself to be able to do so, and disappears with it. The highly amusing sounds of Fury cursing and tiny kitten noises follow him.

When he comes back to himself, there is a crazed grin on his face and a fluffy black kitten in his hands. The others, who had been sitting around him and listening to an audio projection of the conversation, stare at him in confusion. “Where the fuck did you get a cat from?”

Loki offers Barton an innocent smile. “She used to be a chair.”

Tony, already working away at hacking S.H.I.E.L.D.’s secure files, snickers. Romanov, on the other hand, looks downright incredulous. “You turned Fury’s chair into a kitten?”

“Of course not,” Loki says dismissively. “I turned it into a whole litter.”

Barton coughs, attempting to hide the fact that he is quickly descending into a fit of giggles. “Oh man! Just- I wish I could’ve seen his face!” With a shrug and a partially concealed grin, Loki casually flicks in Barton’s direction and an illusion of Fury’s face appears, one eye bugging out and looking completely dumbfounded at the pile of kittens at his feet.

Looking amused to an extreme, Tony pulls the god in for a kiss. Then the kitten makes a little noise and Tony looks down at it. “Are we keeping the cat? Because I’m not so sure we should keep the cat.”

“We are keeping the cat.”

“Lo…”

Loki rolls his eyes and blows softly on the kitten. A green mist swirls around her and then settles into her fur, shimmering for a second before disappearing altogether. The next time she blinks, her eyes settle into a brilliant emerald green, the same shade as Loki’s. “It has been long since I have last kept a familiar. Having one now should be useful.”

Surprising near everyone there, Romanov makes a small cooing noise and takes the kitten from Loki. “What are you going to name her?”

The god shrugs. “I had not planned on giving her a name.”

Making an annoyed noise, Romanov turns her back on Loki and marches towards the kitchen, presumably to get the kitten something to eat. “Her name is Tsunya,” she calls, sounding decisive about it.

“If you insist,” Loki responds. “Though she is _my_ familiar, do try and remember.”

Barton smirks and claps Loki on the shoulder. “Your kitten just got stolen.”

Grumbling about assassins with no notion of personal property, Loki follows after her into the kitchen. “Little spider, if you desire a kitten so, I can retrieve you another from the director’s office.”

“But I like _this_ one.” Her words have a cheeky smile behind them, and all that can be heard from the god is a sigh.

****

Having made his great escape to his lab to avoid Loki and Natasha’s bickering, Tony doesn’t quite notice the amount of time that passes as he works on stealing and assembling enough of the plans to be able to build their own version of the portal device.

He’s almost done, and fuck is that machine needlessly complicated, when a small furry creature jumps on his arm, meowing happily. Tony frowns and brushes the kitten aside—which only seems to delight the little furball, who gears up for a second attack—and keeps working. “No cats in the lab,” he calls, assuming Loki is down there too.

“I go wherever I like, Tsunya goes wherever she likes. Familiars tend to exhibit the same characteristics as their masters.”

“I think you’re jumping the gun a little bit there. She’s a cat, and cats already do that. Besides, I don’t care. I don’t want cat fur everywhere.” Tony types a few more things and then curses as an alert flashes up on his screen.

“Sir, S.H.I.E.L.D. has slipped a virus into our system and is attempting to scramble our data.”

“Fucking took them long enough to notice. Use countermeasure four point two oh nine, I think, and slip through a note about Fury hiring some new techs.”

“The countermeasure is in place, as well as subroutine seven point eight oh three, which I felt would be useful. Shall I put the message on Fury’s personal computer?”

Tony cracks a small grin and pats one of the screens appreciatively. “Definitely. I forgot about the subroutine, nice move Jarv-barv.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Behind him, Loki clears his throat in an irritated way. “Tony, it is almost sunrise.” His words hold a hint of reproach.

Surprise flashes through Tony, and he turns with an expression that is half incredulous and half sheepish. “Really? I thought I just came down here maybe an hour ago? At most?”

Loki shakes his head and then climbs into Tony’s lap. “No, darling, it has been nearly seven hours.”

Tony’s hands reach up and circle Loki’s hips almost absently as he leans back and whistles. “Well, S.H.I.E.L.D. has definitely improved their defenses. Hacking them was more fun than usual today.”

“I am glad you enjoyed that,” Loki murmurs, leaning in to nip and kiss along Tony’s neck. Grinning at his husband’s ministrations, Tony tilts his head back further, allowing Loki more access to his neck.

Another small meow comes from behind him, distracting Tony and making him look around for the furball. He catches sight of DUM·E whirring around in confusion as the cats bats playfully at him. “You cat’s bothering DUM·E.”

“Tsunya,” Loki enunciates clearly, “is just playing. Your robot is interesting to her, and I doubt she can bother him overmuch.”

“What if she gets fur in his gears?”

“She will not.”

“But cat fur gets _everywhere_.”

“Hers will not,” the god says with finality.

Tony eyes him carefully. “You know she’s not allowed in our room, right?”

“Is she not?”

“No. I’d feel so awkward with a cat watching us.” When Loki stays quiet, Tony fixes him with a firm glare. “I’ll concede to everywhere else, but not the bedroom.”

Loki frowns, but then nods. “If you insist.”

Tony sighs in relief and leans forward to kiss Loki. “Awesome. So, are you going to drag me upstairs or can I work a bit longer?”

Loki levels him with an unimpressed look. “Jarvis,” he commands, “shut down the lab for the remainder of the day.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Traitor,” Tony mutters, pouting pitifully. Loki rolls his eyes and pulls Tony to his feet, muttering a few things of his own under his breath.

Upstairs and in their room, after Loki gives Tsunya a water bowl and a bed, the god turns to Tony with something approaching excitement. Tony regards him curiously. “Lo?”

Loki gives Tony a nervous half-grin. “It has been just over three months since I have become pregnant.”

“Yeah, and?”

Without further explanation, Loki takes off his shirt, pushes the waistband of his jeans lower, and flicks a finger at his abdomen. The air around him shimmers for a second, like light reflected through heat, and then his belly swells, and then he definitely looks pregnant. “Holy shit,” Tony breathes softly, totally thrown off for a second. “Come here.” He holds out his hands for the god, who steps closer and allows Tony to put his hands on his belly, which looks enormous because it’s just suddenly there. “You were hiding it?”

“I have been wearing an illusion,” Loki agrees, watching Tony’s face with open curiosity.

“Why?” Tony can’t tear his eyes away from Loki’s belly, but he feels the god smile.

“I wanted to see your face like this, when you are not overly distracted by anything else.”

“And how’s the result?”

“Acceptable,” the god answers teasingly. Tony snorts and then pulls Loki on top of him, deciding to show his appreciation through kisses. When he finally stops for breath, Loki is laughing slightly, enjoying the attention.

“Is three months a usual time to show this much? I thought it’d take longer than that,” Tony questions as his fingers stray towards the god’s belly again.

“For a first pregnancy, it would take longer, but a second will show sooner, especially since it is twins and I am currently male. If I were to shift into a female form, it would be a bit less pronounced.”

Humming thoughtfully, Tony sinks to his knees and presses a kiss to Loki’s abdomen. “Never thought I’d say this, but I like it noticeable. Huh. Kids.”

Loki snorts and pulls Tony back up to eye level. “I thought you were over your strange disbelief.”

“Lo, I will never be over it until I’ve got a baby in my arms, and even then I’m pretty sure I’ll still feel it every once in a while.”

“You mortals are so strange.”

“You’re going to have to come up with some new insults, Reindeer Games, ‘cause ‘mortal’ doesn’t apply to me anymore.”

Loki laughs. “Immortal you may be, but I am of the opinion that no amount of time will alter your… human-ness.”

“That’s not a word.”

“It is now.”

“You can’t just make up new words!”

The god lets out a long-suffering sigh. “And this is why your language has become so stagnant.”

“Rude. Hey, let’s celebrate.”

Loki frowns. “Celebrate what?”

“The sky,” Tony replies sarcastically. “Your baby bump!” He clarifies after Loki glares at him, an unsaid _obviously_ tacked on to his words.

Clearly just humoring him, Loki nods in agreement. “As you wish. How should we celebrate?”

“I was thinking that you could fuck me until I can’t feel my legs and then after we sleep we could go out for lunch.”

“A good plan,” Loki says with mock solemnity, his words ruined by the hints of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “But how is sex celebration?”

“I’ve been told it’s all in the intention,” Tony replies conversationally. Laughing and shaking his head, Loki cuts off whatever else his husband is intent on rambling by pushing him down onto the bed.

~~~~

With a triumphant noise, Tony sits back in his chair, looking at the complete design with barely restrained glee. The portal device, which he is now calling the star-hopper, is finally done. The plans he had stolen from S.H.I.E.L.D. were shit—which was really only to be expected—and Tony had been forced to redesign the whole thing, tweaking some specific stuff here and there to alter the plans to accept a unique version of an arc reactor rather than the Tessarect as the power source. It took a month of slow, careful work—because there was no way Tony was going to risk his team for speed.

Whistling happily, he sets Jarvis to rendering the parts for the final design, which he will assemble later, and heads up to the common floor. He expects it to be empty—it’s around noon, and nobody would’ve expected him to surface so soon, so they’re likely to be in the gym—and is brought up short by the woman sitting in the kitchen at the breakfast bar. The whistles die on his lips, and Pepper does her best not to shift awkwardly.

Recovering himself slightly, Tony nods in greeting and goes for the coffee machine. “Hey, Pep, what’s up?” He tries for casual, and only fails a little bit.

“I didn’t know you had a cat,” she says by way of an answer.

Tony follows her line of sight to where, of course, Tsunya is standing in the doorway. “That’s Tsunya. She’s Loki’s but Natasha named her and steals her sometimes,” he explains.

“Oh… I never thought you’d let a cat in the tower.”

“I didn’t, but with Loki you’ve got to pick your battles, and when it’s the cat or the couch…” He tries to make a joke of it but fails spectacularly. An awkward silence descends, during which Tsunya manages to place herself on Pepper’s lap.

Almost absently, her hands start to stroke the cat, and once Tsunya’s purring can be clearly heard, Pepper starts to talk. “I’m… I think I’m good now. I realized that I’ve missed you these last few months, and I’d like to be friends again.” She finishes her words in a rush and then stares down at the cat, uncharacteristically shy as she waits for Tony’s answer.

“I can do friends,” Tony says with a smile. “In fact, friends sounds awesome.”

Relief is evident on Pepper’s face when she looks up again. “Good.”

“So, what brings you here?” Tony asks, and then winces, because it sounds like he doesn’t want her there.

Long used to his stumbling words, Pepper ignores his wince. “Jarvis called me when I was driving home. He said I should come to the tower.”

“Why?” Tony addresses his question to the ceiling, and it is Jarvis who answers.

“I have detected an anomaly in the surveillance systems for Miss Pott’s apartment.”

“You have my apartment under surveillance?” Pepper asks shrilly.

Tony waves his hand dismissively. “Of course I do. Only Jarvis has access to it, though, so don’t worry. It’s just a security thing, ‘cause the system you installed was _way_ too weak. What kind of anomaly, Jarvis?”

“Upon leaving this morning, Miss Potts left the foyer bathroom window open. An insect attempted to crawl inside through a tear in the screen, disappearing from my outer sensors, but did not reappear inside, no matter what scans I used to look for it. This implies that there may be a feed loop installed in my systems, though I was unable to locate it. I suggested that Miss Potts come here as a precaution, sir.”

“Seems a little overboard for a glitch,” Pepper sighs, beginning to gather up her things. “I’ve got work to do.”

“Jarvis doesn’t glitch,” Tony says quietly, with no small amount of offense. “Stay here until we figure it out. You know you have access to all your files from here anyways, plus the entire hoard of interns running around on the lower floors.” After a moment of deliberation, Pepper nods, looking none too happy. Then Tsunya yowls and jumps off of Pepper’s lap, purring happily as she runs to Loki.

The god’s hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, and he’s a bit sweaty. The look is new, and if Pepper wasn’t there, Tony probably wouldn’t have been able to resist tugging on Loki’s hair and giving him a kiss as he walked by. As it is, Loki stands in the doorway with his eyes narrowed and looking entirely too threatening for a guy who’s got an armful of happy cat. Tony has no idea when he got there either, having stopped pinpointing the god’s location through the bond weeks ago. “Hey Lo,” he greets with a smile and a wave.

Loki ignores him. “I assume you are Miss Potts?”

“Yes. And you’re Loki. Pleased to meet you.” Pepper holds out her hand to him, and he eyes it distastefully.

“Why are you in my tower?”

Sensing trouble brewing, Tony goes up to Loki and wraps his arms around the god’s middle, unable to stop himself from splaying his hand over Loki’s abdomen. “Jarvis detected some safety issues with her apartment, so she’s here as a precaution. Also, we made up and we’re friends again,” Tony supplies in a rush, hoping that that would be enough to deter the god.

It isn’t.

“I did not ask you,” Loki says lowly, disentangling himself from Tony’s hold. He fixes his gaze on Pepper. “Have you any idea of the effects of your careless words have had on him? Have you any idea of the damage you have wrought?”

“Yes,” she answers quietly, looking away from the god’s angry gaze for a second before focusing on him sharply again.

“Truly?” Loki says mockingly. “You are aware, then, that he has repeatedly intoxicated himself to near death on your behalf? That he has injured himself and destroyed his work over his own misplaced guilt? You are aware of the way he has tortured himself into shame and self-doubt, all on your behalf?”

“Loki,” Tony growls sharply, “stop it. Those were my choices, and not her fault!”

Again, Loki ignores him. Pepper looks shell-shocked, despite the fact that Loki has not raised his voice above a polite, conversational tone. “You say you know all of this, so I ask you again, why are you here?” Tsunya, no doubt sensing her master’s anger, leaps out of Loki’s arms and runs from the room.

“I didn’t know it was that bad, Steve said he was fine!”

“You had Steve checking up on me?” For a third time, Tony is ignored. Pepper looks as if she is close to tears, and gives Tony a look filled with such guilt that Tony instantly feels awful. He pushes that feeling through the bond to Loki, who stops whatever it was he was about to say, and then the god finally turns to look at him. “That’s enough, Lo. Making her feel like shit isn’t going to erase everything that happened, it’s just going to dig it up again. Go easy on her.”

“She should know what she put you through,” the god growls, his one red eye flashing angrily.

“Break-ups aren’t one way, she had her own shit to go through. We made up.”

“She blamed you for her own inability to cope!”

“Lo—”

Pepper cuts in. “Tony, he’s right.”

A quick flash if incredulity goes across Loki’s face, probably because he’s not used to the person he’s accusing agreeing with him, but he smoothes out his expression and looks at Pepper imploringly. Tony, too, looks at Pepper incredulously, though he does nothing to hide it. “What?”

“He’s right, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Shit, Pep, don’t apologize! I’m good now, and you’re good now. Forget what my husband said, we’re good.”

“No, we’re not good! I skipped your wedding because of this! I’m such an idiot! And to answer your question,” she says, turning to Loki, “I’m here because I missed my friend, and I don’t need your approval. The safety thing Tony talked about was just the final push.” She raises her chin slightly, looking Loki dead in the eye with a mixture of challenge and respect that only Pepper can manage. “However, I will leave if you want me out.”

Loki eyes her before turning away with an air of indifference. “You may stay.” He turns to the fridge and gets himself an apple, cuts it up, and slathers the pieces in honey. The kitchen is silent as he does this.

Tony eyes the god’s finished concoction with distaste. “You’re going to rot your teeth with all that sweet stuff.”

Loki shrugs. “This is what I want to eat.”

Tony shrugs as well and lets it be. Honey and apples is not as bad as some of the stuff Loki has taken to mixing together.

“Why’s Pepper here?” Natasha asks, strolling into the kitchen with Tsunya in her arms.

“We made up,” Tony replies in a chipper voice. “And also someone possibly installed a feed loop in the surveillance systems in her apartment so Jarvis thought that she should come here.”

“Oh,” she says, which is an entirely appropriate response in Tony’s opinion. Frowning slightly, the assassin digs through the cupboards until she comes up with a small can of tuna. “Only possibly?”

“Jarvis isn’t sure.” Tony eyes the can carefully, trying to look inconspicuous and glancing at Loki. Any kind of fish smell usually sends him into the nearest bathroom.

“If it is truly a point of worry, I can go and look over her apartment,” the god offers, catching sight of the can as well.

It’s a good escape plan, but Tony doesn’t like it. “Maybe we can just send S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

Rolling his eyes—he knows why Tony doesn’t want him to go—Loki sets his bowl down on the counter and disappears.


	20. I Will Be Your Scarecrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I'm on time this week! Hooray!
> 
> As per my usual, thank you to everyone who has read, commented, and left kudos. I love you all. 
> 
> And also, its the beginning of winter exams, so I'm afraid I'll be going ghost for a bit. I'll try to post, of course, but I figured it's only fair you guys get an advance warning of sorts.
> 
> Please enjoy this week's chapter!

Pissed—because hey, his reasons are valid—Tony huffs and crosses his arms, tracking Loki’s distance through the bond. A few minutes of silence pass where Pepper looks like she wants to say something and Tony ignores her, preoccupied with worrying about Loki.

_Jarvis was right to send her. Romanov’s Winter Soldier is waiting in her apartment._ A distinct impression of a musing tone colors Loki’s thoughts. _It looks like someone is attempting to send us a message. Perhaps I shall leave one of my own._ The god sounds oddly delighted about the idea, and Tony sighs.

****

Loki eyes the man, taking the time to be amused with his choice of ambush. However unlikely it seems, rather than preparing for an efficiently swift kill, or perhaps a violent terror-inducing ambush, the Winter Soldier seems to be attempting a casual stance. He is sitting comfortably in an armchair, his posture a sprawl of limbs that is not constructed for any sort of swift movement. Loki looks for the carefully held tension, an artfully constructed casual air, and finds no hints of either. How frustratingly intriguing.  The god smirks, though he is not seen, invisible and incorporeal as he is.

“You have grown sloppy, Winter Soldier,” the god chastises, enjoying the way the man twitches slightly when his voice seemingly appears from nowhere. Instead of responding, the man just sits stoically, his lips perhaps twitching with the hint of a grin. When the silence holds for too long, Loki sighs and sends an illusion of himself to appear before the man. Usually, he could and would play the waiting game, but Tony is waiting and overly loud in his worry. “You did not even hear me enter.”

The man tilts his head, the movement more robotic and calculating than anything. His eyes, once dead, seem to glitter for a second, some emotion glancing across them nearly too quickly to register. If pressed, the god would call is satisfaction. “Either you’re good at hiding and were here before I was, or you’re a very quiet person.”

The image of Loki shrugs, grinning in a wolfish kind of way. “I am good at both, and you are good at neither,” he taunts, trying—in vain, he knows—to provoke a reaction from the shadow assassin.

His eyes once again devoid of life or emotion, the Winter Soldier stands with the air of someone being forced to deal with an inconvenience. “In this case, I didn’t want to be. I’ve got plenty of independence on this mission, so I can be creative. You weren’t who I was waiting for, but I’m not in the mood to spare you.”

The illusion raises its eyebrow in a skeptical look that is as condescending as it is cynical, and the small movement triggers a flare of activity from the Winter Soldier. He leaps forward, a knife appearing at his side, and promptly flies through the image of Loki, barely managing to catch himself before he slams into a wall. The god snickers, stabilizing the flickering illusion, and then turning it to address the man.

 Instead of shock or outrage, the Winter Soldier’s face is painted with reluctant amusement, and a flash of approval momentarily lights dead eyes. “Neat trick.”

Loki bows his head in acknowledgement. “Thank you.  I think I will leave for today. You are rather more boring than I had hoped.” The image goes to leave, and then turns back quickly. “Ah, and you would probably like to know that your target is safe with my husband, as well as all of your others as well.” Image-Loki tilts its head quizzically. “Perhaps, if you were something other than pathetic, you would be able to complete this ‘mission’ of yours?” He muses, the words sounding as if they are directed to himself but carrying an obvious challenge in them. The image shrugs and disappears before the shadow assassin can reply, and then the man thinks he is alone.

Loki watches with rapt curiosity as his tense posture sags slightly, as if suddenly exhausted, and a burst of emotions break through to color his eyes with life. They are gone as quickly as they appeared, leaving the man with an expression of hope on his face that melts away to one of severe discipline. It is such an interesting reaction that Loki almost regrets the fact that he will most likely have to kill the man. Almost.

With one last flick of his mind, Loki conjures a sheet of thick parchment, enjoying the expression on the man’s face when it drops at his feet. Writing scrawls across it almost as if controlled by its own will, and then Loki teleports home, fierce amusement at this newest development warring with his desire to make ready for the plot he had just set in motion.

The Winter Soldier had reigned free for far too long.

****

Tony sighs, his face looking grim. “Sorry, Pep, but it looks like you’ll be staying with us for a while.” He then turns to Natasha. “It’s him.”

“Who’s him?” Pepper asks as the assassin nods. “And how do you know that? Loki’s not even back yet.”

“He doesn’t have to be back to tell me,” Tony explains vaguely with a wave of his hand, unused to having to explain at all after the first big reveal months ago. “As for who’s at you apartment…”

“He’s an infamous assassin, the kind you whisper about as if saying his name out loud might summon him to you,” Natasha explains. “He’s the ghost our masters told us about so we’d keep in line, and who is unfortunately very real.” She sighs and turns to Tony. “I don’t like that he went after Pepper. We’ve been too lax lately.”

“You’re right, she’s the only one of us with the least amount of protection.”

“What do you mean, one of us?” Pepper demands. “I’m not an Avenger!”

Tony makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat and rolls his eyes. “But you’re associated with us. You’re not Iron Man either but you still got captured because of it.”

Pepper sighs, her expression angry, but resigned. “So what do we do?”

Natasha hums thoughtfully and scratches Tsunya’s head. “For now? You stay here and only leave when one of us is personally escorting you, and even then only if you absolutely have to. We’re not much protection against him. In the long term… Steve’s working on a plan, but it’s probably way too sentimental and trusting, but I don’t have the heart to call him on it yet. It probably won’t be too long of a wait though. He’ll probably come here next.”

“Wonderful,” Tony mutters sarcastically. Then, probably because he’s been paying such close attention to him, he automatically looks up to the ceiling, where a few floors away, Loki has appeared. “Loki’s back. I’m going to go over some security stuff with him. You guys tell Steve, he’ll want to know, and, uh, figure out whose floor Pepper is going to stay on.”

“I can’t stay in my room?”

“Well,” Tony shifts uncomfortably, “it’s sort of been turned into Loki’s study, and I’m not sure he’d be happy about you staying on our floor anyways.”

“Oh. Okay, that makes sense,” she agrees easily. Then she offers up a small, tentative smile. “I really am sorry.”

“Me too, Pep.”

****

Loki paces across the floor in front of the elevator, impatiently waiting for Tony to come up. He does not like the idea of him being around that woman, despite how sincere her apologies seem to be. Loki has no right to order Tony around, nor does he wish to, but that does not mean he has to like his husbands decisions or approve of them.

The elevator doors slide open and Loki stops mid-stride, his back facing Tony. He does not turn, unwilling to be caught pacing again, and sighs when he feels arms circle around his waist. Ever so slowly, he lets go of his illusion so that his belly fills Tony’s reverent hands. Then he feels Tony’s forehead resting between his shoulder blades. “I don’t like it when you go off alone.”

“I was safe.”

“I know.”

Loki sighs. “I do not like that she is here.”

“I know. But she was my only friend for so long, and the only person I’ve had to depend on for years. I can’t just leave her to be killed.”

“I know.”

Tony shifts slightly behind him. “We’re going to have to do something about security. It’s not easy to get around Jarvis, and I know we caught him this time, but that was just—”

“Luck. Yes. I have already taken appropriate steps.”

Tony’s hands disappear from around him and then the man himself appears before him. “You have?”

“Yes, of course. There is a seal on the tower that will alert both myself and Jarvis if it is breached.” A smirk surfaces on Loki’s face. “I have no doubt that he will make an attempt soon.”

“Oh?” Tony asks, looking apprehensive and immensely curious both.

“You see, darling, I left him a message of my own.” Smugness radiates from Loki’s voice as he thinks about the look of shock on the Winter Soldier’s face when the god’s note materialized before him out of thin air.

He shares the memory with Tony, who chuckles for a bit, and then becomes serious once more. “So now he’s definitely coming.”

“It seems so. He must be taken care of; Rogers is distracted by him, and it puts many things at risk.”

“Yeah, I figured. I’ve already talked to him about it.”

Loki snorts. “I plan to do more than talk.”

“Carefully, though, right?” Tony suggests, drawing the god towards him.

Loki smothers the flash of irritation that goes through him. He knows why Tony is worried, and he tries to be understanding of it. “I _will_ keep them safe. You need not worry as you do.”

Some of the irritation that the god had sought to smother leaks into his voice, and Tony smiles sheepishly as a result. “I’m starting to bug you, aren’t I?”

“Indeed,” Loki replies, with an air of exasperation that causes his husband to laugh outright.

“What are our chances of destroying Thanos, getting S.H.I.E.L.D. to leave us alone, and making Asgard stand down before the twins are born?”

“Minimal to the point of impossibility,” Loki says flatly. “You should be lucky to manage one.”

Tony sighs, his fingers traveling to tap against the arc reactor in a thoughtful rhythm, a habit the god has not seen much of lately. “I made my life on impossibility,” he remarks softly.

“Yes,” Loki agrees easily, “and you contributed to two more with it. There is only so much luck in the universe.” His words carry an unsaid _give it up_ at the end.

Tony huffs and walks away, pacing for a bit and then abruptly turning back around. “You know what? I’ll settle for two out of three. It’s pretty much sixty seven percent. That’s a passing grade.”

Loki frowns, extremely confused. “What?”

“I’m just saying,” Tony explains with a shrug. “Two out of three ain’t bad. That, I can manage.”

“We shall see,” Loki says dubiously.

His husband just nods in determination. “Yeah, we will.”

~~~~

“Hey Lo, come down here, I think I’ve got it!”

Loki sighs, puts down his pen, and leans back in his chair. Scattered in front of him are multiple notes and diagrams, all concerning the best place to confront Thanos. Currently, he is toying with the idea of waiting until the creature is just outside the orbit of Midgard’s moon.

“Got what?” He replies distractedly.

“The chain! I’ve got a counteracting frequency! Come down to the lab!”

“If I must,” the god concedes grumpily. He shows back from his desk—he really was getting nowhere with his plans anyways—and heads down to the lab at a sedate pace. Frustration is evident in the lines of his mouth and so many distractions fill his mind. He is halfway down to the lab before he remembers to tuck his belly away beneath an illusion. Very nearly berating himself for the silliness of hiding in one’s own home, Loki lets out a disgruntled huff. He has his reasons, and now is surely not the time to deal with others attempting to stifle him for his ‘protection’. Fates know he is deadly in _any_ condition, though the hiding is getting to be somewhat annoying.

When he arrives in the lab, Tony spins around in his chair, all manic excitement. “Hey, Lo, so I’ve finally—” He catches sight of Loki’s face and pauses abruptly. “Is now a bad time?”

“Idiot,” the god chastises fondly. “I am already here, no need to change your plans now.”

A grin lights up Tony’s face. “Okay, cool, because I’m awesome and this needs to be appreciated.”

Loki cannot help but laugh at Tony’s words, his sour mood be damned. “Indeed? Then amaze me, darling.”

His voice drips with amusement and sarcasm, clearly patronizing, which provokes Tony into affecting a wounded expression. “Ouch, tough crowd. I thought we were _friends,_ Lo.”

“Never,” the god replies haughtily.

“Rude.” Shaking his head in a dramatically sorrowful fashion, Tony regards him with a sad gaze. “We had so much potential.”

“Show me your invention, you imbecile, or I will leave.”

“Damn, Lo, don’t go to all that trouble to soften you’re words,” the idiot mutters in mock-hurt. Then he straightens with a grin. “So, my genius invention is a bracelet, and it should counteract the chain completely _and_ adapt to other spells with similar purposes, though I’ll need your help testing that part.” Tony’s explanation is finished with the presentation of a thin, golden bracelet that looks exceptionally unremarkable. That is, until Tony opens a cleverly hidden clasp that reveals a supremely small arc reactor nested among a framework of delicate electrical components. Once Loki has looked his fill, Tony closes the clasp, once again hiding the intricacy beneath a deceptively smooth golden exterior.

“It’s not actually gold. The outer casing is made of a titanium alloy, like my suit. It’s resistant to extreme cold and lightweight, which means that nobody will think that the bracelet is heavier than it should be, unless they weigh it or something, because it’s not a hundred percent the same as a solid gold one would be.”

Loki hums thoughtfully, impressed. Clearly, this was made with the god and his lifestyle in mind. He runs his fingers over the bracelet, trying to find the seam and the clasp, but after a few seconds, he realizes that he cannot. “And this will counteract the chain completely?”

“Yeah, it should. If you’re wearing that, then the chain’s nothing but a chain. It totally worked for me.”

Loki frowns. “Worked for you? The chain has never affected you.” Tony fidgets slightly and looks down at his feet. Loki narrows his eyes. “Has it affected you?”

“Not _really_ …”

“Tony,” Loki says lowly, his voice holding a note of warning, “has the chain affected you?”

“Uh, yeah,” the man admits sheepishly. “More and more over the past couple of weeks. I didn’t really notice, though, until I started working on it again after I finished the portal device. Nearly passed out when I touched it yesterday.”

A few seconds pass in complete silence, and Tony fidgets even more. The god’s face slowly morphs from incredulous to absolutely furious. “Your magic has increased.”

It is not a question, but Tony answers anyways. “Looks like it.”

“And you did not feel the need to inform me?” Loki yells, angry beyond belief. “You know what happens when magic is strong and uncontrolled. You know what I have lost because of it, yet when magic is strong and uncontrolled. You know what I have lost because of it, yet _you did not tell me?_ ”

Tony frowns, his earlier air of excitement completely vanished. “I don’t think it’s that big of a deal. The scans didn’t show any significant amount.”

_But there were enough signs that you felt a scan to be necessary,_ Loki thinks to himself, suddenly feeling colder than he has in decades. “Not a significant amount as opposed to what? My own scans? Fool!” Loki spits. “You know nothing of magic save the most obscure facts and a few accidental achievements! How much did the scans show? The entirety of your hands? Your arms? Perhaps your entire head?” Tony shifts guiltily again, which confirms Loki’s questions. Tony’s power had increased to levels that were dangerous to be left untrained. “You put yourself at risk,” Loki growls.

“If I thought it was dangerous I would’ve fucking told you, Loki!” Tony yells, glaring.

“How can you ‘think’ anything of a subject you are totally ignorant of?”

“I know some things,” Tony says defensively. “How do you think I got the arc reactor small enough to fit in the bracelet?”

“ _YOU USED MAGIC?”_

“Yes,” Tony answers mulishly.

Outraged, Loki flings a spell at Tony, binding the human’s magic—a spell that is illegal in eight of the nine realms—and teleports away, ignoring whatever it is Tony tries to tell him.

He ends up in the gym, where Barton is flinging around a knife. He catches sight of the god and jumps slightly, cutting himself on the weapon. “Shit! _Fuck._ We need to make rules about teleporting!”

“I am not interested in rules,” Loki growls. “A fight, on the other hand, would be welcome.”

“Sure,” Barton shrugs. “You know I like to punch you. But Thor and Fandral are coming down to spar now.”

Loki grins. “Excellent.” He blocks Tony from his mind and prepares for sparring.

****

Tony stares at the abandoned bracelet and sighs. His big reveal was fucking disastrous and behind so suddenly left alone made him feel like the moron Loki had accused him of being. He rubs his arms, trying to erase the stinging feeling from his skin. Whatever Loki had flung at him was not comfortable. It probably has something to do with his magic.

After he had made a fool of himself, Tony can see Loki’s point. Meddling with magic is like goofing around with gunpowder and a match: potentially harmless, potentially devastating, and too big of a risk regardless of the result. Knowing all that doesn’t make Tony any less pissed off. It really only adds a guilty quality to it that burns in his chest uncomfortably.

It really doesn’t help that Tony has been praised as a genius as early as he can remember. He’s never been told he was stupid or doesn’t know what he’s doing, not when he’d actually been trying to do it, especially not when technology was even marginally involved.

Thinking back on it, he didn’t even really direct the magic; he just sort of willed it in the right direction, which sounds exceptionally stupid in retrospect. Tony groans and puts his head in his hands. Loki is right, and this is when apologies should be given. Knowing Loki, his apology will likely have a bit of begging thrown in too. Tony sighs. He hates apologies, but if he can’t even apologize to his husband, than he might as well sign the divorce papers now, bond or no.

First, though, he decides to head up to his floor for a shower and a change of clothes in case he’s fucked up enough to warrant being banished for a while.

****

Loki is in the middle of a spectacularly executed dupe (three copies of himself with varying levels of solidity) and is about to tackle Thor from behind when an alarm goes off in his head. His copies disappear, confusing Thor and the others, and then Jarvis’ crisp voice cuts through the air. “He is in the tower, sir.”

“Where?”

“My sensors have been damaged.”

Cursing, Loki turns to inform the other three of the situation.

****

Feeling refreshed, slightly less pissed off, and a little guiltier, Tony is walking towards the elevator when two things stop him: a flicker of shadows in the corner of his eye, and an announcement from Jarvis. “He is in the tower, sir.”

Alarmed, Tony spins around just in time to dodge a fist flying towards his face. Armed with a knife and a terrifyingly blank expression, the Winter Soldier makes an imposing figure. _Lo, I need a little help!_ The god doesn’t answer, and the Winter Soldier attacks.

He’s fast, but unprepared for Tony’s new strength. Concentrating on the knife, Tony clumsily uses the disarming technique that Natasha taught him and kicks the weapon away, too surprised to realize that it was much too easy to disarm the guy, and wondering why the hell Loki hasn’t responded yet.

During his moment of distraction, the Winter Soldier gets ahold of his arm, and enhanced strength or not, snapping bone makes the same noise. A yell of pain escapes his mouth. Tony attempts to back away, his useless arm swinging painfully at his side, but he’s backed up against a wall and there is nowhere to go.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone..... so sorry for the unplanned enormous gap between updates.... forgive me?  
> Well, the good news is that I am in the top 10 percent for grades at my university, so hooray for that, and the even better news is that I've actually written quite far ahead (I write everything in a journal and then type it up/proof read when I have time) and I am close to writing the ending! So, even though there may be some long gaps in between updates, I promise you it's still being worked on!!
> 
> So without further ado, let's put an end to that wonderful cliffhanger from the last chapter, shall we?

They started on Rogers’ floor first, assuming that he would naturally be the first target. Loki cautiously leads Barton, having decided that separate pairs would be more effective, and is less than relieved to find the captain’s floor to be empty. Only Loki, Rogers, Fandral, and Thor are aware that the Winter Soldier is in the tower, as it was decided that using the tower’s comms or setting off an alarm would be detrimental, which makes the situation messier than the god would have preferred.

Silently, he motions Barton towards the staircase, and the archer nods in reply. Loki’s nerves are shattered when pain lances up his arm, and suddenly he knows where the Winter Soldier is. Worry floods him, and he quickly dissolves the barriers around his mind, reaching for Tony’s presence. As soon as the barrier is gone, waves of pain and fear hit him, along with desperate thoughts of _help help help, where is he, holy shit!_

With no explanation to Barton, Loki teleports to Tony and arrives just in time to see his husband deliver an off-balance kick to the Winter Soldier’s stomach, slowing the shadow assassin only briefly, and then stumble backwards, vulnerable to attack. With a wordless cry, Loki flings a spell at the Winter Soldier that picks him up and flings him away, hurrying to Tony’s side while the other man is indisposed. The spell included a tracer, so Loki can deal with the assassin later.

He reaches for Tony, hand already blue, but Tony shakes his head. “No, go get him first! I’m fine, you can heal me later!”

“Tony, you are not fine!”

“Lo, there are people in here he can hurt. Get him first!”

Distantly, Loki hears the stairwell doors bang, and he growls in frustration. Leveling an angry glare at his husband, the god teleports away to find the Winter Soldier.

Now on the common floor, Loki blocks the man’s attempts to engage the group stationed there—Rogers had been quick to retrieve Potts, who had been staying on his floor, and take her to the common floor to guard her—by lifting him clean off his feet and flinging him into a wall, where he sticks. The man struggles in vain; the spell will not allow him to budge. Growling incomprehensibly in Old Norse, Loki walks up to him with fury written in every line of his body and with his eyes flashing dangerously. Another spell hinders any sort of poison hidden on the man’s body harmless. There will be no such thing as a quick death for the Winter Soldier.

“Who sent you?”

“I was curious,” the man says cheekily, grinning at Loki for a quick second.

“I am sure you were,” the god intones softly, his entire manner transforming in the blink of an eye. Now he stands with casual ease, no trace of anger visible on his person, and a curious smile lifts his lips. His eyes, however, glitter with grim purpose and a promise of pain. All in all, the god looks deranged.

Lifting his hand, Loki shifts the skin so that he is his Jotun self and then lets his intent swirl through the limb. The air around it becomes misty, unable to remain warm when confronted with such severe cold. He sees a flash of fear in the man’s eyes, for the cold air has already reached out to brush along his face, but it is quickly hidden behind steely resolve.

“What an interesting contraption,” Loki remarks conversationally, stepping closer to trace a finger along the metal arm. Ice spreads in the wake of his fingertip, and despite the man’s training or whatever it is that keeps his face that blank, his eyes focus on the ice with an expression of pure terror. “However does it attach?” Loki asks, and then brings up his other hand to rip away the man’s shirt. A small noise sounds from behind him, but Loki ignores it. The joining of metal and flesh looks painful, even to Loki’s unsympathetic eye, but it does not stay the god’s hand. He trails his finger past the unnatural seam of metal and flesh, inducing a pained shudder from the man.

His skin first turns a bright red, flushing from the cold, and then the color fades in the wake of blue-tinged white as the flesh freezes under the god’s touch. Loki pauses, his finger resting on the man’s collar bone, and watches with sick fascination as icy tendrils spread from the point of contact, reddening and then whitening the skin, and then finally darkening to an unhealthy greyish-black. Here the Winter Soldier’s steady resolve cracks, and a pained noise escapes his throat.

The sound draws Loki’s attention back from the morbid blossom of color. “You have caused me many unnecessary problems,” Loki comments lightly, smiling. Then his smile twists into a snarl and his hand fastens itself around the Winter Soldier’s throat. The man barely gets out a startled cry before Loki starts to squeeze, cutting off the sound.

Almost as if involuntarily, the man’s eyes flick over to stare at Rogers, filled with such desperate pleading that he looks to be a different person. As quickly as it had happened, the look disappears behind a cloud of confusion that is in turn shadowed over by pain. Frostbite spreads from Loki’s grip, worsening in severity by the second. The man’s muscles twitch futilely as he tries to get away from the god. Loki tightens his hold in response, watching in satisfaction as the man’s strangled breaths become increasingly difficult to accomplish.

Despite his lack of air, the man manages a small whimper, which is echoed by a sound of distress from Rogers. “Loki, stop! You’re killing him!”

“That is my intent,” the god says calmly, sounding as if he is commenting on the weather.

“Don’t, kill him, please! Stop!”

Loki pays his pleas no attention save to tighten his hand further around the Winter Soldier’s throat when Rogers makes to step forward. The god carefully avoids putting too much pressure on the large artery in the man’s neck, wanting him to suffer true asphyxiation.

“Loki, please!”

Rogers sounds increasingly desperate, and so Loki turns his head to level him with a glare. “He is a threat. He injured Tony,” the god growls.

“I know that, I do, but he’s not himself, he’s being controlled. Let me help him,” Rogers begs, inching forward carefully.

“You speak as if you know him.” Behind Rogers’ back, Potts turns and runs into the elevator, probably to gather the others.

“I do know him. I grew up with him. Please, Loki, let him live! He’s my Tony,” Rogers finishes quietly, looking as if the words fill him with a pain so acute as to be indescribable. Shock stabs through Loki, and his hand drops from the man’s throat. Behind him, the man breathes in a great, shuddering gasp, and in front of him, Rogers’ face goes slack with relief.

Suddenly unsure of how to proceed and hating the feeling of it, Loki growls in frustration and flings another spell at the Winter Soldier, rendering him unconscious. He falls from the wall and drops into a heap on the floor, wringing a surprised cry out of Rogers. He rushes to him and rolls him over, only to stop in surprise. The damage Loki had wrought is slowly receding under the careful ministrations of a healing spell, a sight made all the more assuring by the steady rise and fall of the man’s chest. “He will sleep until I awaken him, and he will heal as he does so.”

Rogers looks up at Loki with something akin to gratitude, but the look burns unpleasantly, curling with something quite similar to guilt in the god’s gut. With a curt nod, Loki teleports away, his need to escape and his need to get to Tony quickening his exit.

****

Sitting quietly and waiting for Loki to come back was nearly more painful than getting his arm broken in the first place. With a sigh, Tony shifts and winces when the movement jostles his arm. He had long since block off Loki’s emotions from reaching through the bond. The fury had been nearly blinding and did nothing for Tony’s anxiety. The time seems to stretch on forever, especially blind to the events as he is, until Tony just kind of settles into a daze, grimacing every now and then when a bolt of pain shoots through his arm. When Loki finally reappears, Tony sighs in relief.

Quietly, Loki heals his arm and sends a wash of warm magic over him, then sits on the floor next to him. Tony leans on the god and sighs, remembering what he had been planning on doing before the attack. “Loki, I’m sorry. You were right, I’m an idiot.”

Loki is quiet for a bit, and then he sighs as well. “You are forgiven. I understand why you did what you did, even if I do not approve of your doing it.”

“I won’t use magic again, I swear.”

“You do not have to swear off magic indefinitely,” Loki says with a chuckle. “I only ask that you wait until I can teach you how to use it.”

“Yeah, I… yeah, okay. Sounds good.” They sit quietly for a bit more, and then Tony hauls himself up and stretches out his arm, swinging it around to make sure it’s good. “So what happened with the Winter Soldier?”

“He is under a magically induced slumber and is in Rogers’ care.” A tinge of guilt colors his voice, which is unusual for the god.

“Lo? What aren’t you telling me?”

“I was fairly close to killing him, but Rogers stopped me. I was unaware of the man’s true significance.”

Feeling like the idiot Loki always accuses him of being, Tony curses and smacks himself in the head. “Shit, I forgot to tell you. How much do you know about Steve?”

“Not much,” Loki admits.

Nodding, because of course Loki wouldn’t know much beyond what Clint would’ve told him, Tony launches into a story about Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, WWII hero and Captain America’s best friend. He even has Jarvis pull up the news reels and some of Howard’s old films. When he finishes talking a while later, Tony watches the silent god carefully. He seems to have fallen into deep thought, and only offers up a belated “ah,” in response.

“Am I missing something?” Tony asks carefully.

Loki hums thoughtfully. “Rogers claimed that Sergeant Barnes is to him what you are to me.”

Tony’s mouth falls open in surprise. “Seriously? Steve’s gay?”

Loki gives Tony a condescending look. “Are you gay?”

“No, I’m whatever. Labels are stupid.” As he says this, Tony feels ridiculous for his outburst. “Okay, yeah, you’re right, dumb thing to say. It’s just a shock when you think about the time he grew up in and all.”

“Why should that make a difference?”

“Homosexuality was illegal in the forties.”

The god arches an eyebrow. “And that means it did not exist?”

“Well… no…”

“Cease your idiocy, then.”

“He never said anything,” Tony says defensively.

“Why should he?” Loki asks, sounding sympathetic and supremely logical at the same time. “The man he loved was dead. Perhaps he never had his feelings returned in the first place. People do not enjoy digging at old wounds.”

“Right…” It makes a lot of sense, and it makes Tony feel supremely dumb. He really knows nothing about people. “So what are we going to do?”

Loki sighs, sounding both regretful and frustrated at once. “I am not sure. It depends on the state of Sergeant Barnes’ mind. If he can be healed, then I will attempt to do so.”

“And if he can’t?” Tony asks carefully, already pretty sure of the answer.

Loki nods, one short jerk of his head. “I cannot allow such a threat to continue to exist. Not with the twins so close to life.”

“I thought so,” Tony replies lamely. “I wouldn’t risk them either.” He pokes at Loki’s flat stomach. “No hiding up here, remember?”

Loki chuckles softly and releases the illusion. Tony smiles and leans down to press a kiss to the swell of the god’s belly. He is rewarded by a sharp little kick in just the right spot, and he freezes, shocked for a second. “How long have they been doing that?”

Loki smiles. “A bit, here and there. They are becoming more active.”

“Of course they are,” Tony says proudly. Then his mood turns melancholy again. “You know, if it comes down to killing Bucky, I think Steve deserves the right to know _why._ ”

“You think we should tell him.”

“I do.”

Immediately, Loki frowns. “Why?” He asks sharply.

“If you’re right, and we end up killing his best friend, the love of his life, and _the only person left in the world from his past,_ then we are going to have to tell him why.”

“You believe he would sacrifice this man for our children? I certainly would not, not for someone else’s.”

Tony presses a soft kiss to Loki’s lips and then smiles sadly. “I don’t think he would either, but he might hate us a bit less for it in the future.”

The god sighs and he pinches the bridge of his nose. Then he growls in frustration and clambers to his feet, marching to the elevator and pulling Tony behind him. “We fix this now. I refuse to delay such things.”

When Loki doesn’t pull up his illusion again, even though they’re in the elevator, Tony gives him a look. “Lo, you’re still obviously pregnant.”

“I am aware,” the god huffs. “Regardless of the results, we inform the others about this today.”

His statement wipes Tony’s brain and makes his mouth flop uselessly for a second. “Seriously?”

“This would be a poor jest,” Loki sniffs in mock affront.

“Shit, okay, but Lo, put the illusion back on and _then_ reveal it, don’t just barge in pregnant when you weren’t half an hour ago!” Rolling his eyes, the god replaces his illusion just before he leaves the elevator.

On the common floor, Tony sees Bucky laid out on the couch while Steve is pacing the room restlessly. The entire team is here now, and they’re spread around the room alternating between staring at Steve and cautiously watching the Winter Soldier. On occasion, Pepper and Steve make eye contact, but Steve always looks away first. Pepper’s gaze is way too understanding and supportive for him to deal with at the moment. Tony is suspicious about it until he realizes that Pepper was probably there for the ultimate showdown and Loki had neglected to mention her.

Natasha is seated in a far corner, her arms wrapped around Tsunya. Her eyes never leave Bucky’s prone form, hovering with an uncertain sort of fear that Tony’s never seen on her before. Fear, mixed with a dose of respect, the kind you’d give a superior you looked up too. It makes for a warped expression. “Tasha?”

She flicks her eyes over to him for a bare moment and shrugs. “I’m sitting in a room with the boogey man.”

Their quiet words draw Steve’s attention. He halts mid-stride and turns to Tony with sad eyes set in a face of stone. “This wasn’t my plan. I was going to try and make him remember.”

Offering up a week facsimile of his usual cocky grin, Tony goes over and claps Steve on the shoulder. “I know. But I’ve got a plan B for you.”

Hope flares in the soldier’s eyes. “What is it?”

“I will attempt to heal his mind and unearth his memories,” Loki cuts in smoothly. “However, should I be unsuccessful, you must know that he cannot be allowed to continue.”

Immediately, Steve’s face hardens and he takes a protective step towards Bucky. “No.”

“Steve,” Tony says quietly, “we can’t risk it.” Steve’s head whips around to look at the others, and from across the room, Natasha’s head gives one small nod of agreement, the Winter Soldier has to end, one way or another. Clint sighs, looking like he’d rather not agree but does anyways, and the two Asgardians avoid Steve’s gaze, making their opinions clear. Bruce looks determined against any sort of _ending,_ and Pepper merely looks torn.

All in all, it’s not a solid support base. “No,” Steve protests again, sounding betrayed. “We can protect ourselves, none of us even count as _human_ anymore!”

“What?” Pepper exclaims, sounding confused and extremely worried.

“I’ll explain later, Pep, you’ve missed a lot,” Tony says distractedly, and then he glances at Loki. _Now?_ The god nods subtly, just a minute shift of his eyes, and Tony takes a deep breath. “It’s not us that I’m worried about.”

“What do you mean? I don’t think he’d attack civilians if he’s fixated on us.”

“He’s only fixated on us because that’s what he’s programmed for at the moment, Steve,” Tony states bluntly. Steve flinches but doesn’t back down. Tony sighs. “Besides, I’m not exactly worried about civilians either…”

“Then what is it?” Bruce asks gently, curious and cautious all in one.

Tony fidgets and opens his mouth to speak, but for once in his life he finds himself at a loss for words, so he closes it again and turns to Loki. “Help?”

Sighing, and with a flash of an affectionate grin, Loki quickly finds the words that Tony couldn’t seem to grasp. “By some twist of fate, we are now expecting children.” Natasha gasps and clutches Tsunya even closer to her chest, ignoring the cat’s noise of protest.

No one else seems to understand what’s going on, and Tony sighs. “He’s pregnant.”

A few beats of loaded silence pass, and then a broad grin spreads across Thor’s face. “Truly?” He exclaims happily. “I offer my congratulations!” He then turns to Fandral. “Is this not excellent?”

Fandral grins. “Though the timing could have been improved upon, this is indeed cause for celebration. The fates have bestowed honor upon you,” he finishes with a slight bow.

Loki inclines his head in appreciation of the words, and Natasha recovers from her shock. “Is this that thing you were hiding?” Loki nods, the barest hint of a grin tugging at his lips, and she shakes her head ruefully as a result. “Shit, you were right, I would’ve never guessed that.” Then she frowns slightly. “But that was months ago. Wouldn’t you have started showing by now?”

“I am wearing an illusion,” Loki explains.

“But I poked your stomach yesterday. I thought illusions weren’t solid?”

“Sensory manipulation is easy enough when one has the energy to support it,” the god says with a shrug.

“Holy shit though, you’re pregnant!?” Clint bursts out. His eyes are huge and he looks like he’s torn between disbelief and insane levels of curiosity. “How does that even happen?”

“Well the first thing you need is a dick—”

“Tony!” Bruce admonishes, looking barely recovered from his own shock. Shaking his head once, as if he’s trying to clear water from his ears, he turns to Loki. “How far along are you?”

“Nearly five months.”

“I—you— _what_?” Steve stutters, his surprise momentarily erasing Bucky from his mind. “I mean, I’ve read the legends, but seriously? Can you show us?”

With a slight amount of apprehension, Loki slowly lowers his illusion. The team watches with new levels of shock as Loki’s stomach begins to swell. When the illusion is completely gone, the room seems overly loud in its silence.

“Holy shit,” Pepper breathes. She comes forward carefully, stopping a short distance away from where Tony and Loki stand. “I can’t believe it. You’re okay with this, Tony?”

“Honestly? I’m completely terrified. Excited too, but mostly terrified.” Loki snorts at Tony’s answer, making Tony grin. Then the grin slides off his face, and he turns back to Steve, his face openly pleading. “I can’t risk them, Steve. If we can’t heal Bucky—”

Steve flinches at the use of the nickname. “I still won’t let you kill him. We’ll figure something out.”

“And if we can’t?”

Clenching his fist and turning away, Steve stares at Bucky’s sleeping form. His silence lasts so long it seems like he’s never going to answer, but then he lets out an agonized sigh. “If every other option fails and there is literally nothing left, then _I_ will kill him.”

“You don’t have to be the one to—”

“Yes I do.”

Tony wants to protest, but a hand on his shoulder stops him. Looking grim, Loki steps past him and approaches the couch. “That may not be necessary. We only wished to inform you ahead of time as a precaution. If you will allow me to examine him?” Steve nods stiffly, and then Loki places a hand on Bucky’s flesh arm. “This will take a few moments.”

“I still can’t believe he’s pregnant,” Clint mutters, easing himself into a chair like an old man.

“It’s not like it’s never happened before,” Natasha reasons. “Haven’t you ever read the legends? And remember that guy from Siberia?”

“Yeah, but he was non-binary so it wasn’t as big of a shock and of course I read the legends! But this is real life!” He gasps. “ _I threw him across the gym yesterday!_ ”

“As did I,” Thor says, frowning mightily. He turns to Tony with disapproval written all over his face. “Why have you allowed my brother to continue to train? Are you so careless as to neglect his condition?” He sounds pissed near the end, but his voice remains low so as not to disturb Loki.

Tony raises both eyebrows—because one just isn’t enough—and gives Thor a patented Loki look. “You think I haven’t been trying to get him to stop? Loki does what he wants. Why don’t you tell him that he has to act the delicate pregnant person and get back to me?”

“Guys,” Steve snaps, irritated. “I understand that this is an amazing thing and you all want to talk about it, but can you just wait?” His eyes never leave Bucky and Loki, and his voice sounds wrecked near the end.

A sheepish silence steals across the room and apologetic glances reign supreme.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody!! Look, look, a chapter on time! I'm very proud of myself!!
> 
> Thanks as always to everybody who leaves comments, the longer the better!!! I love reading them and answering them :) 
> 
> Also, I never edit, so if you darling people see any mistakes, please tell me, I will love you forever.

After what seems like an eternity, Loki finally moves away from Bucky. Tony goes to help the god to his feet—he’s not entirely mobile with his belly—and then Steve steps forward with painful hope. “Can you help him?”

“What is your opinion of his condition?”

“He’s not himself,” Steve answers without hesitation. “It’s like they erased his memories and stuffed something else in. They erased _him,_ ” he finishes lowly, his anger and pain clearly evident.

Loki nods solemnly. “Yes, it does seem so. However, you are only partially correct.”

“What do you mean?”

“You cannot erase memories. They can be suppressed, perhaps even hidden, but they are always present. The only way to destroy a memory is to destroy the mind, to shatter it beyond all recognition.” Steve winces with every word, looking more and more desolate. “Your friend is lucky,” Loki continues. “Humans do not possess this power, no matter how much they may wish to.”

“So you can heal him?” Tony asks hopefully when Steve doesn’t say anything.

Loki nods. “I can, with no ill effects to his health or psyche, beyond what would be reasonably expected.”

“Reasonably expected?” Steve interrupts sharply, looking more than concerned.

“Mild disorientation, but that should not last longer than a few minutes if it is indeed present, most likely PTSD, but not so severe as to be inhibiting, and other things along those lines,” Loki lists. “You did not think he would be perfect, did you?”

“No, no, of course not,” Steve says, letting out a huge sigh of relief. “I can deal with those.” He sways on his feet and nearly falls into a chair, obviously in a much better state of mind than he was a few minutes ago. “Thank God. When can you do it?”

“Now, if you wish,” Loki, and then he turns to Tony. “Though I will need your help.”

“You’ve got it,” Tony offers quickly.

Steve nods. “Then do it now, please.” Then he smiles. “And then we can all freak out about your baby. Bucky will think that’s incredible.”

The god’s lips twitch in a small smile. Then he conjures himself a chair and sits down next to Bucky. “Before I begin, what would you prefer I do with his memories of being the Winter Soldier?”

“He’ll remember that?” Steve asks weakly, going from hopeful to dismayed in the blink of an eye.

“Of course he will. It was still his mind and his body; he is not a different person. Do you think less of him for it?” Loki asks with a touch of scorn.

“Never! I’m just worried about how he’ll take it once he’s himself again.”

A complicated expression passes over the god’s face, and he looks at Steve carefully. “He will never be as he once was, Rogers. Whatever he has experienced in his time away from you will have changed him. Are you prepared for that?”

Steve nods fervently. “Yes. I’ve changed too. I can adjust.”

“Very well. What shall I do with the memories?”

“Keep the awareness of them but hide the details,” Natasha suggests. “Then he won’t be overwhelmed by them and can choose whether or not he wants to face them.”

Looking relieved at the suggestion, Steve nods decisively. “Something like that would be wonderful.”

Loki nods and then holds out his hand to Tony. “If you would, darling?”

Curiously, because the whole mind thing is still new to Tony, he takes Loki’s hand and immediately feels himself being drawn out of his body. He and Loki make their way into Bucky’s mind, and it takes nearly all of Tony’s willpower not to violently flinch away from the horrendous damage that greets them. _Holy shit._

Grim acknowledgement comes from Loki, along with thoughts of encouragement. _It looks worse than it truly is. Watch._ Approaching what Tony’s mind sees as a desolate grey landscape strikingly similar to the remnants of a building ravished by fire, Loki weaves a complex spell.

Not bothering to hide his amazement, Tony watches as the sinister grey scars crumble and fall away, revealing a small area of pulsing blue light, a color filled with determination, softened by the feeling of someone that _cares,_ and surrounded by a fierce hardness that reminds Tony of the sea.

_He is still here, just beneath the surface. If you look closely, you will see that he has already began to break through on his own._

True to the god’s words, Tony notices that there are veins of the blue light peeking through the gray, like deposits of lapis lazuli in an otherwise barren cave. With fascination and a healthy amount of caution, Tony takes careful note of what Loki is doing and then sets out to do it on his own.

****

At first, Steve is determined to keep his eyes on Bucky to catch the first flutter of his eyelids when he wakes up, but as the minutes drag on, he gets distracted by Natasha. She sits down on the floor next to him with a sigh, catching his attention and directing it to Pepper, who has not once taken her eyes off of Loki’s stomach. “Pepper?”

“I never thought Tony would want kids. He never said anything.”

“Did you want kids?” Steve asks gently.

“No,” she answers quickly. “But I would’ve considered it, if he asked.”

Bruce goes over to her and gently leads her to a seat. “He wouldn’t have asked, not if he knew you didn’t want them.”

Pepper sighs. “I know. I was so horrible to him for months, and I feel awful because I keep finding out how good he is.”

“I wouldn’t use ‘good’ to describe Tony,” Natasha says with a laugh. The sound is short-lived. “Why were you so awful to him anyways?”

“I thought he would think I was unnecessary after we woke up. I was afraid for my job and of how he might treat me once he knew there wasn’t any chance of something more. He’s had so many girlfriends and one night stands, and I’ve been there for all of them. I thought he’d treat me the same, and when he didn’t, I felt so stupid. I took it out on him, and I was constantly on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. When Tony asked me what he had done wrong, as if everything was his fault, I couldn’t stand it. I felt like a disgusting thing sitting under the light of a star,” she admits quietly. “But then we talked it over, and I took some time for myself, and I’m getting past it. I’m happy for him.” By the end of her little speech, Pepper’s shoulders lift minutely, as if finally admitting this to everyone made her feel better. Steve nods his approval. Talking can really help with most problems.

“I sort of know what you mean,” Natasha agrees softly. Almost like a token of peace, she offers Tsunya to Pepper, who accepts the cat with a small smile.

“So we’re all good?” Clint asks, breaking the serious atmosphere.

“Yes, we are,” Pepper says with a laugh.

As conversation slips away to less serious things, Steve turns his attention back to Bucky. He can’t wait to see the recognition in his eyes, he can’t wait to talk to him and see his reaction to the news of Loki’s pregnancy—which Steve is still having trouble accepting. He’s read the Norse legends—he was curious about Loki and he’d always enjoyed learning—but reading and believing are two different things. Thor and Fandral, their only link to the ‘average Asgardian’, didn’t look overly shocked. Their reaction was appropriate to a woman announcing her pregnancy—shocked and happy—which makes him think that this might be close to the norm on Asgard. His musing thoughts are cut short by a flicker of movement on the couch.

Jumping to his feet, Steve doesn’t even bother to suppress his smile as Bucky opens his eyes. Loki stands up and moves away as quickly as his belly allows, dragging Tony behind him and allowing Steve unencumbered access to Bucky. Bucky, for his part, groans and reaches up to rub his eyes.

“Buck?” Steve asks quietly.

The hand lowers and a tentative smile creeps into Bucky’s face. “Hey, Stevie. Long time no see.” All at once, relief crashes through Steve. Completely uncaring of where he is and everyone around him, Steve starts to sniffle. “Aw, Stevie, I thought we kicked your crying habit,” Bucky says, in a quiet, awkward way. He sits up and cautiously puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “We both know I’m not worth your tears anyway, not anymore.”

“Yeah you are, Buck.” Steve’s hand goes up to grip Bucky’s, and everyone else tactfully finds somewhere else to be.

****

That somewhere else ends up being the sitting area of Tony and Loki’s floor, where a pointless discussion of the pregnancy has cropped up. Loki sits with ill-concealed frustration as his participation in the coming battle is debated. Finally, after enduring nearly a half hour of stupidity, Loki decides that he has listened enough. “I will not sit idly by, not for this fight. You will need my assistance and I need the… satisfaction of triumph. My participation is not in debate.”

“But your stomach is huge!” Barton exclaims, gesturing at Loki with something akin to helplessness. “How are you going to do anything?”

The god sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. At the moment, it must be acknowledged that he does not cut a very imposing figure, reclined as he is with an outrageous number of pillows and a purring cat curled up on his belly. That, by no stretch of the imagination, does not mean that he is unable to fight, and fight effectively at that. “Barton, you sparred with me just yesterday and I was equally pregnant then as I am now.”

“I… you—” Barton pales. “I tossed you across the room yesterday! Holy shit, I am so sorry!”

Loki waves his hand dismissively. “I have a multitude of spells in place. Any impact I receive has no more effect on my body than lying on a bed would.”

“It was still an unnecessary risk,” Thor adds in gravely.

“Tell me about it,” Tony grumbles.

Shooting his husband a poisonous glare, Loki huffs angrily. “I do not take unnecessary risks. It is essential that we work together seamlessly and that I know your new strengths and limitations as surely as my own.”

Sensing the obstinate tone of his voice, Romanov attempts to change the topic of conversation. “You’re actually pretty huge. How far are you?”

“About eighteen weeks.”

Banner looks up in surprise. “Only eighteen weeks? I’ve seen women that big closer to twenty four or even thirty.”

“For a single pregnancy, that is perhaps the norm,” Loki agrees easily. “I, however, an expecting twins, so a difference in size is to be expected.”

“Twins? How in the nine did you achieve that?” Fandral asks, his eyes wide and his voice holding a note of awe. “And accidentally as well?”

Loki shrugs. “Perhaps the fates are paying me back what I am due. Whatever the reason, I have not grown so conceited as to disrespect such a miracle by questioning it.”

The elevator doors slide open, and Rogers comes through. “How many miracles have happened?” He asks, clearly catching the tail end of Loki’s words. He is still smiling with fierce amounts of happiness, and behind him Sergeant Barnes follows with a similar if not more subdued version of the expression.

“Two so far. You’ve got Bucky back and Tony’s going to be a father to twins,” Barton responds helpfully.

“Twins?!”

“Yeah,” Tony says, grinning like an idiot. “I’m very proud. You want to be godfather to one of them?”

“Yes!”

“I want to be a godfather too!” Barton whines.

“I think I would prefer Thor,” Loki muses thoughtfully, knowing without a doubt that whatever the state of their relationship, Thor would protect Loki’s children to the death. While Barton pouts and Thor looks torn between nervousness and hope, Loki directs his attention to Sergeant Barnes. “I see that Rogers has replaced your shirt.”

“Yeah, my other one got ripped up by some crazy blue guy.”

Loki chuckles. “My apologies, Sergeant Barnes. I trust there is no lingering pain?”

“Nah, nothing,” Barnes replies with a shake of his head. “No ache in my shoulder either and I’ve had that since I got ‘upgraded’.” His tone is wry but pleasant, and Loki decides he likes him. “And, uh, thanks for my mine. It’s nice being a hundred percent again.”

The god inclines his head in response. “I am familiar with the feeling, and I do not begrudge you the relief.”

“The other stuff, the stuff I did as the Winter Soldier—”

“Will become accessible to you should you desire it.” Barnes nods looking… not pleased but not upset with the information either. “In the meantime, a man such as yourself will be incredibly helpful in an upcoming dilemma.”

“You mean that crazy guy with the army and stuff?”

Tony frowns and looks at Steve with something approaching disapproval. “You had half an hour to catch up with the guy and you spent it talking about our impending doom? Didn’t you have anything more _important_ to say?”

Inhaling sharply, Rogers shoots Loki a betrayed look—which is ridiculous, why would Loki keep secrets from his husband and bonded?—and then turns a look of censure on Tony. “No, and I’ll thank you not to say anything else about it.”

Loki’s eyebrows quirk up and he lays a restraining hand on Tony’s arm. _Barnes is unaware of Rogers’ regard. There is perhaps a chance that the captain’s feelings are not or cannot be returned. Leave it alone at present or you risk pushing the both of them in the wrong direction._

Reluctant acknowledgment filters through the bond, and Tony drops the subject. “So hey, you’re going to start living here now, right, Sergeant Barnes?” He asks instead.

“Call me Bucky,” Barnes corrects quickly, “and I’d like to, if I can. If I’m welcome.”

“You are,” Tony says decisively. “My dad used to tell me all about you when I was growing up, and this is going to sound majorly insensitive—but hey, it’s what I do—you’re a whole lot cooler with the metal arm, no offense, this is my ten year old self talking.”

The man flexes his fingers on said arm and stares at his hand for a second before smiling ever so slightly. “Thanks. I’m sure that’s a mighty compliment, coming from you.” Then his smile fades. “I’d like to get rid of the star, though.”

“I can do that,” Tony offers easily. “I can give you a cloaking device for it too, in case you want to go to the beach or something in peace.”

“That would be _wonderful_ ,” Barnes sighs happily.

Tony grins. “There’s a price, thought.”

“What?”

Catching wind of his husband’s idea, Loki rolls his eyes just as Tony says, in his best imitation of Director Fury: “I want to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative.”

Snorts of laughter abound as Barnes enthusiastically agrees, and then living plans and ideas are laid out. It is, to be accurately summed up, a productive day.

****

Tony ends up ordering in food, which they all eat on his floor. By the end of the night, the only one who doesn’t look supremely weirded out by Loki’s belly is Natasha, who is never shocked for long anyways. Bucky—who Tony is still freaking out about internally because he met him before Coulson—doesn’t react like Tony thought he would, being raised in the good old past and all. No, instead of the disgust or heavy disapproval that even ‘modern’ people show, Bucky only seems curious and slightly uncomfortable about the pregnancy—which is totally fine, considering Loki is likely the only pregnant man he’ll ever see.

In any event, it’s the pregnancy that occupies most of the conversation, maybe because nobody wants to make Bucky uncomfortable, or maybe because Bucky’s the second ‘villain’ they’ve welcomed over to their side. Tony decides that the reason doesn’t really matter.

Once they’re alone together, Tony lets out a contented sigh. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.”

“Mmm, it was quite simplistic. Mind traumas tend to be much more difficult, in my experience. He is not completely healed, of course, but he should be able to work through the rest on his own,” Loki comments idly. He stands up and stretches, then trails his hand across Tony’s shoulder as he walks past him. “Come to bed, darling. In the morning we can revisit your bracelet idea, as a team, and begin some training exercises for your magic.”

“Yeah, sure, sounds good.” Stretching as well, Tony gets up and follows the god.

Sleep, however, doesn’t come easily to him. He lies on his back, one hand resting on Loki’s stomach, and thinks. Not on purpose, really, but it does occasionally happen, what with a mind like his and all. He thinks a bit about the portal device, which is a hundred percent ready to go. He thinks a bit about how he really hopes no one dies when they finally do confront Thanos, which he does his best to stop thinking about very quickly. There’s not much he can do about that besides what he’s already doing. He thinks a little about getting Steve and Bucky to sign his photograph, which would make Coulson totally jealous. He thinks a bit about Bucky and Steve.

Actually, he thinks a lot about Bucky and Steve. They’ve got a lot of shit to sort through. In fact, Tony wouldn’t even feel remotely surprised if Bucky’s PTSD is as bad as his was. Steve definitely had it too, for a while. Tony still has nightmares occasionally, but he has Loki to help him through it. From what Tony has gathered, it looks like Steve wants to have Bucky like that, and to be that person in return. After Loki had warned him off of meddling, Tony had watched them, trying to find some sign in Bucky that he could pass along to Steve. Which really isn’t meddling at all—that’s just helping a buddy out—but he couldn’t see _anything._ Which probably has something to do with the fact  that, being born in the 20s and all, both Steve and Bucky would’ve learned to hide their feelings very thoroughly, from the rest of the world and each other. In his consideration of Steve’s happiness, Tony doesn’t bother thinking of whether or not Bucky might return the super-soldier’s feelings. In Tony’s eyes, there’s no way he wouldn’t.

A sigh sounds from beside him and Loki rolls over, getting as close as he can to Tony and draping an arm over his husband’s stomach. “Stop thinking. It is much too loud and I am trying to sleep.” When Tony stays quiet, Loki sighs again. “They will need time to sort through their issues and they will have an eternity to do so, if they wish it. Leave this problem for now. It can be revisited after our success over Thanos.”

Distracted as he is, Tony almost misses the ‘eternity’ bit. When his mind catches onto it, he sits up and stares down at Loki in disbelief. “You’re going to offer Bucky an apple?”

“Yes. I have many left over, and Rogers is a valuable ally, not to mention something of a friend. No ill could come of it.” Smiling happily, Tony leans down to kiss the god soundly, and Loki hums appreciatively. Then he pulls Tony down beside him, making it clear that it is time for sleep.

****

Loki can barely keep down a scream of frustration as the team, plus Coulson, tries to decide on an appropriate place to intercept Thanos from, as well as a suitable location from which to open the portal on Midgard.

“It’ll have to be remote,” Coulson insists. “Especially since the portal will have to remain open while you’re over there.”

“The arctic?” Barton suggests, just as Banner suggests the desert.

Coulson shakes his head to both. “No, I don’t think either of those will work. The area’s too broad. Maria and I have to be able to hold the location.”

Fandral huffs in annoyance. “I cannot imagine how much work that will take, considering how small this portal is to be.”

“Regardless,” Barnes interjects angrily, “we want to minimize any potential damage, and that means staying away from any major land masses.” He turns to Tony. “Don’t you have an island or something?”

“No! Why the hell would I have a fucking island?”

Barnes rolls his eyes. “Oh, I don’t know, because you’re rich? Isn’t that something rich people _do_?”

“There aren’t many private islands that are far enough from the public to be useful to us,” Coulson says, dismissing both the idea and the tensions between Tony and Barnes in the same breath.

“Do you not have an enormous sea fairing vessel?” Thor inquires thoughtfully.

Tony looks at him, confused. “My yacht? Yeah, why?”

Loki sighs and puts his head in his hands. They are getting nowhere.

“Why not take your yacht to a remote area of the ocean and create the portal from there? Surely it is big enough for that?”

In the shocked silence that follows, Loki lifts his head to stare at Thor. “That could work.”

Shifting slightly in the face of many incredulous gazes, Thor frowns to hide his discomfort. Barton laughs. “Thor, buddy, I like it better when you’re yelling at the toaster.”

“I would like to remind you all that I have been educated in battle strategy and that I have won many a fight,” Thor says with a hint of offense. “And that contraption is merely determined to vex me,” he sniffs, sitting back in his seat with a dignified air. Fandral smothers a smile and pats Thor’s arm in sympathy while the others pour over a hologram map that Tony brings up.

While they determine an appropriate location, Loki leans back with a sigh. He runs his hands through his hair and starts to consider the particulars. At nearly seven months into his pregnancy, Loki is impatient for an end. His belly has become enormous, something he knows is due solely to the fact that he carries twins, and his movements have become limited without the aid of spells. When he wears his illusion, there are many spells in place that compensate for any limitations, but the larger he grows the more power the spell requires.

“According to the timeline we are working with, if we launch our assault in two weeks we will catch Thanos just outside of Jupiter’s orbit,” Loki says decisively.

Conversation draws to an abrupt silence. “Two weeks?” Romanov echoes incredulously. “Loki, we won’t be able to get the yacht in place by then. Boats like that aren’t made for long-distance travel, and we’ll have to put in a port a _lot_ on the way. It’ll take a month at least, and that’s if we avoid bad weather and other setbacks.”

Loki grins and conjures a small illusion of a ship to hover above his hand. He then blows on it and sends the shimmering form traipsing around the room. “Two weeks, and it will not need to go in at port, this I guarantee you.”

“That’s a big undertaking, Lo,” Tony says, half cautioning and half curious. “How’re you going to pull it off?”

The god smirks, his eyes glittering with purpose. “With something akin to a parlor trick.”

Catching sight of Loki’s expression, Barnes shudders. “You have no idea how happy I am that you only tried to strangle me.”

Barton claps the man on his shoulder. “Buddy, Loki can be much, _much_ worse.”

“You have not had the pleasure of seeing him at his worst,” Thor grumbles. “It is terrifying.”

Loki huffs in mock offense. “It is a wonder I have allowed you to survive.”

“Allowed me!?” Thor bursts out, his offense closer to the truth than acting. Loki smirks, raises his hand in a sardonic little wave, and then teleports away. Never let it be said that his immense belly has hindered his flair for dramatics in any way. Tony’s mirth finds him through the bond and Loki smiles to himself, allowing himself, for the moment, to ignore the axe hanging over their heads.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! So sorry that it's been so long!! Life kind of picked up and swept me away... Anyways, here's a new chapter for you all! I hope you're all still there despite the wait!!

Tony slams hard into a wall, his breath whooshing out of his lungs and leaving him stunned for a second. “Again,” Loki orders, and Tony sits up with a groan.

From the other side of the gym, Bucky huffs a laugh but eyes Tony with a fair bit of concern. “Your blocking is _terrible,_ ” he says, moving into position again. “How did someone like you reach superhero status?”

“Shut up,” Tony grumbles, forcing his body into the ‘ready’ position Tasha had taught him all those months ago. His back violently protests, as does his head, but he ignores them, knowing they’ll fade away in a bit. “You’ve got a metal are and biological enhancements. I’m a business man with a heart defect, cut me some slack!”

“I would,” Bucky laughs, darting in with infuriating ease, “but you’ve been enhanced to god-status, so we’re pretty equally matched. In strength. But nothing else.”

Tony groans again and deflects a punch, his irritation increasing when he realizes that Bucky’s not even trying. “Fucking hit me like you mean it, Barnes!”

“If that’s what you want, Stark,” Bucky responds cheekily. Then his expression shifts from playful to determined, and he lunges forward, switching out from his right arm to his left at the last second. Tony rushes to respond in time, feeling a tingle rush up his arms as he moves, not to meet Bucky’s strike, but to avoid it. He manages to move just enough that Bucky’s metal fist moves just past him, barely a whisper away from touching him. As Bucky’s momentum carries him just a bit closer, Tony reaches out and grabs the metal limb with both hands, intending to try and throw the assassin. Instead, a surprised gasp rushes from Bucky, and his arm twitches weirdly before going curiously dead, his fist unclenching and making no further movements. Surprised, but not willing to give up his advantage, Tony continues on and tosses Bucky across the room. It probably isn’t the nicest thing to do, but he’s been tossed around so much he figures he deserves to toss someone else at least _once._

Strangely, Tony’s hands are tingling, and when he turns to look at Loki, the god is watching him with a look akin to appraisal and slight disapproval. “What?”

Loki narrows his eyes slightly. “What have I said about using magic?”

“Is that what you did?” Bucky complains, getting up from the floor and swinging his metal arm around with a grimace.

“ _What?”_

“You killed my arm, Stark, which is tactically a good move, but I’d like it if you didn’t do that again.”

“But I didn’t use any magic,” Tony protests. “I don’t even know how!”

Loki hums thoughtfully. “No, you certainly did not purposefully cast a spell or any such thing.” The god tilts his head quizzically. “I had not thought to consider an affinity. This explains much,” he says quietly, almost like he’s talking to himself.

“An affinity? Like the Last Airbender kind of thing?”

Loki sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yes, the idea is similar to that of Barton’s cartoon, though the limits are not quite the same. I would say that you appear to have a technological affinity.”

Tony pauses, thinking about that for a second, and then pouts. “But that’s not interesting at all. I’m already legendary with technology. Now fire, that would’ve been awesome.”

Loki sighs in exasperation while Bucky hums in agreement with Tony. “Fire would definitely be more useful, especially if there’s no tech around.”

“Yeah! I’d be like Zuko!”

“Then you’d have to be bald.”

“He has hair in the end!”

“Will you both shut up?” Loki demands, frowning. Then he gives Tony a slightly wounded look. “Do you truly desire an affinity so contrary to my own?”

“Of course not,” Tony disagrees with a smile. “Fire would just be really cool.”

The god’s lips twitch in response to Tony’s words. “I can teach you an assortment of fire spells. In fact, you will learn those first, as they are the most simple.” He pauses, his eyes taking on a glint that immediately makes Tony nervous. “I will have to work this new development into your training regime.”

“My regime?” Tony squeaks nervously, ignoring Bucky’s badly concealed laughter.

Loki nods sagely and pats Tony on the cheek in two sharp little slaps. Tony winces for both of them. “Yes darling. We’re attacking a madman in a week, you ought to be prepared.” Unable to keep a smirk from stretching across his face, the god gets up and saunters away to the best of his ability. He pauses before going out the door and throws Tony an expectant look. “Come along then, darling. It is time for your lessons.”

Bristling at being called like a kid to do homework, Tony reluctantly follows after Loki with barely-concealed grumbling, fully resolving to do something to Bucky for laughing as hard as he is.

~~~~

Training, especially of the magical sort, is extremely frustrating. Every exercise Loki gives to Tony seems like it is purposefully designed to piss him off: Light a specific spot of a piece of paper on fire, but not the surrounding area; change the color of the flame in sections; make the fire burn so cold that frost coats the paper instead of ash; twist the fire into shapes. Each order is given with precision and high expectations, but no hint of instruction. Loki just watches with careful attention as Tony grits his teeth and struggles to force his magic into the forms that Loki has demanded.

By the time the god calls for a break, Tony feels more exhausted than he can remember being in a long time. He feels like he’s been working the same muscle over and over, except that the ache that usually comes from that is spread throughout his entire body, probably because it has no specific place to target. Smirking like he knows _exactly_ how Tony is feeling, Loki forces him back to work barely fifteen minutes later.

Tony decides that Loki is a sadistic asshole. “Can’t you just do that thing where you put the knowledge in my head?” He whines after his cold flame stubbornly turns hot and fizzles out because of the melting ice.

“Not with this,” Loki responds, sounding as if he is trying not to laugh. Muttering about the unfairness of the world, Tony stubbornly starts the spell again, refusing to give up.

At some point, Natasha comes to sit in on Tony’s lesson, and he does his best to ignore her and focus on his disobedient flames. He keeps telling himself that Rome wasn’t built in a day and that things like this take time. Except, if it was him, he probably _could_ build Rome in a day, and it would probably be so much cooler and filled with awesome tech.

His pathetic flame flickers and dies. Tony grits his teeth and concentrates.

Whatever the hell it was that Loki told him to do is clearly _not working._ Loki said it was a matter of control, but Tony’s beginning to think that’s not quite right, not for him, anyways. Control is definitely not an issue, especially for someone who has spent a good portion of their life refining energy intake and output, and balancing the optimum amount of power for any given task. No, Tony has a feeling that he’s having an issue with structure, which, when he pauses to think about it, makes a whole lot of sense.

According to Loki, magic is less about structure and more about feeling. But if that were absolutely true, his spells should be working by now. Deciding that he has nothing to lose by trying to see if Loki is absolutely right, Tony gives structure a go.

He wants to create something with the shape and color of flames. He also wants it to have its temperature to be the exact opposite of flames. Focusing on the two categories, he uses his magic to build a solid link between the two, and once the link seems stable, he forces the spell into being.

A flame sparks up on the paper, growing to a respectable size and bringing a definite chill to the air. Frost spreads in curiously lazy tendrils, reaching away from the flames in spiral patterns dictated by the currents in the air around the cold flame, warring with the warmth of the room.

Momentary disbelief gathers in Tony’s chest, and he watches his creation carefully for a moment before turning to Loki triumphantly. The god meets his eyes with a proud smile. “Excellent, you figured it out.”

Tony frowns, waving the flames away and leaving a patch of ice in its spot. “What do you mean?”

Loki shrugs. “Magic is different for most people. When someone is first learning it, the instructor will give deliberately vague instructions for extremely specific results which are designed to frustrate the student to such a degree that they are forced to develop their own methods of making the spell work.” He grins at Tony’s blatantly unamused face and goes over to press a quick kiss to his husband’s lips. “Stop looking so angry, darling. It takes most students _weeks_ to finally figure it out. It only took you three hours.”

“Those three hours hurt,” Tony grumbles, rubbing his hands over his arms.

“That is an unfortunate side effect. It is similar to forcing a higher amount of voltage through electrical conduits that were not built to withstand such power.”

“ _What?_ ” Tony yells, thinking about all the reasons why that sounds completely unsafe. “You mean I could’ve burnt myself out?”

The god nods. “And that,” he says remarks pointedly, “is why one _must have an instructor._ I would not have let you injure yourself.”

“Oh.”

“Oh indeed,” Loki replies sarcastically. “Now, using your new technique, cast every spell I have shown you. Once they are to my satisfaction you may stop for the day. Tomorrow we will begin to work with your affinity.”

“Tomorrow? I thought we were on a tight schedule?”

From across the room, Natasha snorts. “Don’t you listen? You can hurt yourself if you push too hard. You’re no use to anyone if you’re injured.”

“Gee thanks, Tasha. I can feel the love,” Tony snarks.

She laughs, flips him off, and then flounces from the room, leaving Tony with the irrational though that, yeah, he actually _can_ feel the love. Which is ridiculous.

With a sigh, Loki flicks Tony in the forehead and smirks at the little yelp the action produces. “Tight schedule, darling. Start casting.”

“How come you only call me ‘darling’ when you’re treating me like an idiot?” Tony grumbles, trying to recreate his success with the cold flame. Loki laughs but doesn’t answer, and Tony settles in to work.

Despite having finally figured out his own method of spell casting, the challenges that Loki had set him were only marginally easier, and by the time he finally manages to cast every spell to Loki’s satisfaction, Tony has a massive headache and is violently wishing that he never discovered magic in the first place. Loki smirks when Tony shares that particular thought and announces that Tony’s work is ‘good enough’ for the day. Tony grumbles some more about the lackluster praise and escapes down to the lab, studiously ignoring his husband’s snickering.

Once down in the lab, Tony’s eyes stray to the map that one screen has been devoted to, and he focuses on the red blip steadily crawling across the screen. In reality, the red blip is his yacht, and rather than moving at a crawl, the sizeable ship is traveling to a set of coordinates at a rapid pace, sped along by magic. Coulson and Hill are on board, making sure everything runs smoothly and preparing for the rest of the team to arrive. With only one week left, it feels like there’s nowhere near enough time to prepare.

****

With eight people residing in the tower, it had been decided that things like cooking would be distributed amongst everyone through the drawing of lots. Today, Loki is in charge of their evening meal, so after completing one of Tony’s daily magic lessons, Loki wanders over to the kitchen. The days have been turning chilly with a hint of snow lurking just around the corner, so Loki decides to make soup; not only is it fitting for the weather, but it is easy to make for a large number of people and fairly filling, depending on what one uses as ingredients.

Humming a song he remembers his mother singing ages ago whenever it snowed, Loki roots through the fridge, bringing out ingredients and setting them on the counter. If the weather continues as it does it means that his children will be born in the deep clutches of winter, perhaps even amidst a snow storm. Pausing to smile to himself, because the thought is incredibly pleasing—he has always loved winter—Loki absently rubs his belly and then gets to work.

As he works, Barnes wanders into the kitchen and perches on a stool at the breakfast bar, watching the god with the air of someone looking for the correct words to voice a difficult thought. Aside from an initial greeting, Loki says nothing to the man and instead gives him the quiet he probably needs. He still does not particularly trust Barnes, nor is he as comfortable around him as he is the rest of his patchwork family, but Loki trusts Rogers, so he is making an effort with Barnes.

When the man finally speaks, it is not about whatever it is that is weighing on his mind. “Would you like any help?”

Raising an eyebrow, Loki gives him and look and then gestures at the pile of vegetables lying on the counter, waiting to be chopped. “It would be appreciated. Be sure to cut them finely, else Tony will pick them out like the child he is.” Smirking, Barnes procures a knife and pauses, shooting a quick, unsure glance at the god before he slowly begins chopping the vegetables. _Ah,_ Loki thinks. _Test one._

They work in companionable silence for a while, and then Barnes nods towards Loki’s belly. “So that’s normal for you?”

“Normal enough,” Loki answers with a shrug. “Do you mean normal for myself specifically or for where I am from?”

“Both, I think.”

“Then yes for both, though I must admit that it happens easier for me than others.”

Barnes hums thoughtfully, the lines of his face settling into a carefully neutral expression. “Could you do that for someone else?”

Surprised, Loki turns sharply towards Barnes and studies his face. “Clarify.”

“If, say, a human man wanted to carry children, would you be able to give them the ability?” Barnes asks haltingly, keeping his eyes on the vegetables he has been assigned to chop.

Loki regards him carefully, and then, mindful of the habits of the others living in the tower, he quickly casts a silencing spell, sealing Barnes and himself in a rare bubble of privacy. “You are asking this for Rogers,” he states.

Barnes flushes slightly, and then sighs. “Obvious?”

“Not to most.”

“Oh, right, you were in my head.”

Loki raises an eyebrow but does not contradict Barnes’ words. He is wrong, of course. The god saw because he was watching, and his words were more of a guess than anything, but only an idiot would reveal such a thing after having been proven right. A few more seconds of silence pass before Barnes finally risks glancing at Loki out of the corner of his eye. Loki, for his part, is considering just letting the conversation die there, but Barnes’ pointed little look is making it difficult. Fates know how Barnes, an assassin feared the world over, can manage to look like a pitiable puppy, but manage it he does.

Loki sighs, blaming the six-month large swell of his belly on his ridiculous sentimentality, and gives Barnes an answer. “It is not in my jurisdiction. Though I think it might indeed be possible, if the bearer is strong. It is not, however, in my power to give it to you,” Loki answers softly, for the situation seems to call for delicacy.

Despite his efforts, Barnes’ shoulders droop slightly, and his eyes go flat. “Damn,” he mutters, swiping at his face with his flesh hand and then attacking the vegetables with renewed vigor. Loki waits a few minutes more, but when Barnes makes no further attempts at conversation, the god dissolves the silencing spell.

Finally, when there is nothing left to do for dinner other than let it cook, Loki stretches, summons a book, and makes his way from the kitchen to the couch. Unexpectedly, Barnes follows him, and Loki wastes a second hoping the man intends to sit quietly so that he can enjoy his book. The hope proves to be in vain.

“I just…”

Smothering a sigh— _why in the nine must Barnes open up to_ him _?—_ Loki re-casts the silencing spell. “Just what?” The words come out a tad sharper than the god intended, but then, he really did want to read his book.

“I have nothing to give him.”

Loki raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You are an idiot.”

Barnes scowls. “Steve wants children!” He bursts out, gesticulating wildly. Loki is thankful for the silencing charm. “A family! He used to talk about it all the time when we were kids, and especially when we were in the army. He wants a _woman,_ ” the man finishes dejectedly.

“How would a child help that?” Loki inquires carefully, knowing full well what Rogers _wants_ and keeping the information to himself for the time being, interested in the man’s reasoning.

“If I could do that for him, if I could give him that, then maybe I could convince him to at least give me a chance.” Barnes sighs. “But that sounds stupid, because Steve likes women, and I’m definitely a man.”

Loki snorts. Idiotic humans. “So does my husband.”

“What? You’ve lost me.”

“My husband likes women. Too much, actually. Yet here I am, adorned with his ring. It would seem that he likes _me_ as well. Do you follow?” The look on Barnes’ face tells him he does not. Loki pinches the bridge of his nose and leans back with a groan. Must he spell it out for this exceptional idiot? “How long have you known Rogers?”

“Since we were kids,” Barnes answers easily, seemingly confident now that he appears to be back on solid ground. “We were always together. We even lived together, after his parents died and before I shipped off.”

“And he has never shown any interest in men?”

Barnes laughs. “No. He was always complaining about how the dames would never pay him enough attention.”

“Always?” Loki asks, attempting to draw out the obvious aspects of a situation he is slowly piecing together. “Perhaps excessively?”

“What? Excessively? No,” Barnes says with a shaky laugh before falling silent and considering the god’s words. “No,” he says again, frowning slightly. “Stevie was such an angry little guy, of course it makes sense that he complained so much. Poor guy couldn’t get a dame if his life depended on it.”

“Do you honestly think so badly of your friend?”

“Of course not!” Barnes huffs with no small amount of offense. “If he had actually tried, there’s no way any dame could’ve…” The man trails off, eyebrows knitting together as he realizes what he just said.

Satisfied with the results he has managed to get, Loki sits back and pointedly opens his book, flicking through the pages while Barnes attempts to reason his way out of this new realization.

“No,” the man mutters. “There was Peggy, he definitely liked her, just proves that if he tries he can get the best of dames… Huh. But maybe he’s actually like Tony…? But he never looked at guys in the army… or at least not obviously. Of course Steve wouldn’t look obviously! If he was looking. Looking obviously is rude. He’s not rude. Maybe he just never got the chance, he was always with me.”

Loki rolls his eyes from behind his book. How blind is this idiot? “Always with you?” He asks pointedly, turning a page as he does so.

There is silence for three beats, and then Barnes is shaking his head stubbornly. “No, I refuse! That means I’ve wasted _years,_ and I refuse!” He shoots up and stalks away angrily. Loki watches him with amusement and then goes over to check on the soup.

Dinner that evening is an interesting affair. Barnes spends it asking cleverly disguised questions, and Rogers spends it being completely oblivious. Tony spends it showing Romanov his newly acquired magical talents (at his husband’s request), distracting her and looking like an excited child demonstrating new teachings to their mother and distracting her thoroughly. Rogers’ obliviousness reaches a new level when he offers to take care of the dishes and Barnes offers to assist him, chasing after Rogers’ back with a determined expression.

Keeping his amusement to himself, Loki leaves them to it and follows Romanov out when she quits the table. When the others are out of earshot, he reaches out to touch her arm. “A word, little spider?”

Nodding curiously, Romanov follows after him.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIIIIIIIIIVE!!! And so it this story!

Blinking, Tony stares at the screen and then at the message on his phone. A second passes, and then he repeats the process, flicking his eyes back and forth between the two screens.

The boat finally reaches the right coordinates. Which means it is happening tomorrow.

It’s happening tomorrow, and while Tony is more than ready to actually _do_ something, he is in no way looking forward to this. Mostly because Loki has gone strangely quiet over the past few days, disappearing somewhere with Natasha whenever he gets the chance, and Tony knows he’s worried. He can hear it in the words the god doesn’t say, and he can see it in the looks Loki will not allow on his face.

The air inside of the tower has a charged quality, as if lightning is about to strike, and tensions run high. Clint has long since disappeared into the rafters after Tony snapped at him for pacing; Steve and Bucky have been alternating between glaring at each other—they both think the other should take less risks or stay behind—and planning out the best ways to keep everyone safe; Bruce has locked himself in his lab where Jarvis says he has some sort of meditation incense burning; Thor and Fandral are destroying the gym; Pepper is slowly shredding some poor piece of paper to bits, her lips pressed in a thin line; Loki and Natasha are nowhere to be found.

Everyone is nervous. Everyone knows what’s at risk, in the immediate sense and in the long term. Everyone knows that failure is not an option, and it shows. It shows in their eyes and in their shoulders and in their hands, and it is with something resembling relief that Tony finally escapes up to his floor, alone and somewhat better for it. He sits alone on the uncomfortable designer sofa, staring across the room at the nice one he and Loki had bought, and violently wishes that the god would stay behind tomorrow. He knows better than to ask, to even mention it, but safely hidden away behind some mental shields, Tony can wish all he wants.

He is in the middle of a particularly fervent version of his wish, for the first time in his life considering calling on whatever god would listen to him, when he hears the elevator doors slide open, and then Loki’s nearness brushes warmly over his mind through the bond.

“Hey Lo,” Tony greets with a smile.

Loki smiles back, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Why in the nine are you sitting on that couch?”

“I happen to like this couch.”

“If I remember correctly, you were the one who insisted we buy a new one.” The god pauses here, a smirk stretching across his face. “For sitting purposes, in any event,” he adds with a heated gaze and the barest hint of tongue flicking across his lips.

Tony grins. “Oh, I’m _remembering_ all right, but… maybe something a little different.”

“Oh really?” Loki purrs, shifting closer to Tony as his eyes darken.

“Mmhmm,” Tony agrees, reaching out to pull his husband closer. “I am remembering plenty of things about this _fucking couch,_ but none of them are really complaints.”

“You’ll have to refresh my memory, darling,” Loki responds playfully, leaning in to nip at Tony’s lips and then removing the illusion on his swollen belly. “Shall I let you ride me, darling?”

“It’s safe?”

“Would I offer if it was not?”

A sheepish smile, a stretching spell, and a couple of hesitant movements later, Loki loses his patience with Tony and hoists the man’s hands above his head, hanging him by his wrists with magic, and then drives up into him, taking his pleasure while Tony gasps and moans above him. “I’m not sure this counts as riding,” Tony groans, attempting to make his words sound like a complaint and failing miserably.

Loki smirks lasciviously, his eyes dark and hooded. “Oh darling,” he purrs, and then leans forward to drag his teeth over Tony’s chest. “You lost your chance, and I think I like this much better.”

Tony makes a high noise and strains against his invisible bonds, wanting so badly to get his hands on his husband _right now._ “C’mon, Lo, let me go, I promise I’ll be good,” he grinds out between gasps, writing as Loki presses biting kisses along his neck.

“Oh, but you are already so well behaved,” Loki breathes, running his hands over Tony’s sides appreciatively. Tony bites back a curse, and instead of replying, bears down on Loki and clenches as hard as he can, wringing a startled gasp and then an appreciative moan out of the god.

“Still behaving?”

“ _That,_ my dear, is misbehavior,” Loki gasps. He then sets about making sure that Tony can’t talk for a long time, fucking him on the fucking couch.

Afterwards, in some intense feat of determination and stubbornness, they manage to drag themselves to their bed, Tony slightly limping and Loki nearly sagging from the combined effects of good sex and exhaustive magic. Tony watches with concern until the god settles on the bed, hoping that he won’t have to catch him. With how tired he is now, Tony’s fairly sure he’d miss if he tried.

Finally lying on the bed, Tony attempts to let his fatigue take control and fall asleep, but it proves to be more difficult than he had thought. “Promise me something, Lo.” The words slip out against his better judgement, sounding raspy and urgent.

Loki tenses slightly, knowing full well what Tony is about to ask for. “No.”

“If things get too heavy,” Tony continues on relentlessly, “if it looks like we’re going to lose or go out with him—”

“Do not ask me Tony!”

“Promise me you’ll leave and go somewhere safe.” Tony’s voice holds enough uncharacteristic seriousness that Loki pauses, if only briefly.

“No,” he says again firmly, vehemently. “You have no right to ask that of me. I will not leave and live while you die.”

“So don’t do it for me, do it for _them,_ ” Tony counters, desperation on the tip of his tongue and in the press of his hand against Loki’s belly. He is rewarded with a sharp little kick, and he finds himself laughing brokenly. “Lo, there’s only two months left before they come into the world, and they’re already so _alive._ Can you imagine? Little green-eyed babies completely taking control over the tower, adorable and perfect and _ours._ ”

“I was rather hoping their eyes will be brown,” Loki says quietly, voice thick with emotion, unable to resist what Tony is describing.

“Brown, green, red, who gives a shit as long as they’re healthy?” Tony sighs wistfully. “Promise me, Loki. Promise me you’ll save yourself if there’s no other way.”

For a long while, silence is the only answer Tony gets. Loki has blocked off his end of the bond and Tony allows it, understanding why Loki would want his mind to himself for a bit, and attempts to be patient. Finally, Loki draws a sharp breath and gives Tony an answer. “I promise you.”

The words feel like a slap, stinging and painful because Tony can feel that they’re a lie, in the bond and in the careful neutrality of Loki’s voice. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Tony nods and pulls Loki closer, kissing him sweetly, as gently as he can manage, but still with an air of desperation. The god trembles but keeps his silence, offering up no more words.

Withdrawing into himself, Tony does his best to pretend that the false words are true.

****

Loki watches his husband until his breaths slow and his heartbeat evens. When he is sure he is asleep, Loki inches forward and presses shaking lips to Tony’s forehead. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice hitching over the words. “I love you, and I swear I will see you live.”

****

The morning dawns sharp and bright, with nothing significant in the air to mark this day as any different from the ones that came before it or from the others it proceeds. Tony can’t decide if he would’ve preferred it to be dark and gloomy instead, even though the clear skies will make this easier for them. An odd feeling of disconnect hovers over him, making everything seem muted and distant. He catches Steve looking over at him in concern more than once, but he doesn’t quite feel like offering any sort of reassurance. After a while Steve just shrugs and turns back to the conversation he’s having with Bucky.

Everyone has their own ways of dealing with pre-battle anxiety, but Bucky and Steve have it turned into an art. Considering that they both fought in World War Two, it’s not exactly surprising that they’re probably used to this kind of thing. Tony can’t say he’s ever been good at the waiting part, because he honestly just wants to get it over with.

They all gather in the kitchen for a light breakfast with Pepper shooting worried looks around the room. She had wanted to jump into one of Tony’s extra suits and come with them, but Tony had refused. He needs her to stay behind to look after the company and keep S.H.I.E.L.D. in the dark for as long as possible. She had agreed, reluctantly, and had then informed Tony that if he got himself killed she’d raise him from the dead and kill him again, then bring him back once more to clean up the mess. Loki had decided that he liked her slightly more after that, though he still refuses to carry a decent conversation with her.

Speaking of the god, Tony sneaks a glance over at him, quickly flicking his eyes away when it looks like Loki is about to meet his eyes. After a night of strange dreams, Tony realized that he has something he’s never actually said to Loki but probably should’ve, and he’s not exactly sure that it’s the right time to say it. Not to imply that he is usually concerned about appropriate timing, but he figures it couldn’t hurt. He really doesn’t want Loki to think he’s only saying it because they might die, but at the same time he really doesn’t want one or both of them to die without him having said it. Which probably outweighs the stupid risk of misinterpretation, and fuck that means he’s already decided doesn’t it?

Blinking and shaking his head, Tony shoots back the last mouthful of his coffee and makes his excuses to leave, claiming that he needs to do one more check on his suit in the lab. Loki follows him down barely a minute later, and Tony makes a show of putzing around, poking at some tools here and glancing at a graph there, and oh so casually sliding the golden bracelet across the workbench to Loki. Smiling slightly, the god picks it up and slips it on his wrist, sending a small wave of magic over it as he does so. “You have improved on this design since I last saw it.”

“I added some structure to the magic,” Tony explains quickly. “I didn’t use any extra magic, I swear.”

“I believe you,” Loki chuckles. “This is quite impressive.”

Tony shrugs. “When someone I love is on the line I like to put my best effort in.” A beat of silence passes and then Tony chances a look up at Loki, who seems to be at a loss for words. “You know Lo-lo, you really have to get used to me liking you.”

“You said love.”

“Yeah, because I love you. I really love you,” Tony responds with a sigh. Then he opens up the bond and fills it with the feeling. “I _know_ you’ve felt it from me before.”

“Feelings that slip through a bond can be easily blown out of proportion,” Loki replies, sounding less like he believes what he’s saying and more like he isn’t sure what to say at all.

Tony snorts. “Not likely Reindeer Games. Believe me when I say I love you.” His voice softens near then end, and so does Loki’s expression.

“And I you.”

Smiling, because some words just have to power to make people do that, Tony pulls Loki close and kisses him soundly. “Please don’t die today, Lo,” he pleads quietly before stepping back.

The god regards him with a single raised brow, only the tension in the bond betraying his anxiety. “I will not if you do not.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Loki smirks. “Darling, I dare you to do better.” He sharply pats Tony twice on his cheek and then glides away, going back to the others and leaving Tony smirking like an idiot despite the current situation.

****

“Are you all prepared?” Loki asks, looking at everyone around him. The group nods in near unison, and Loki echoes the movement. “Very well. You might feel slightly nauseous in a moment,” he warns. Banner tenses, Thor scrunches his face, and Loki casts the group teleportation spell.

****

The first thing Tony hears as he materializes is the roar of the surf, and then a groan from Clint. “Slightly nauseous?” The archer gasps. “Slightly? I think I’m going to puke!”

“Please do so quickly,” Loki comments idly, sounding completely uncaring but flicking a healing spell at Clint as soon as the man’s back is turned.

“Can I get one of those too?” Bucky asks through clenched teeth, looking vaguely green. Loki agrees, and then most of the others line up for one too. Tony snickers from behind his face plate, already used to teleporting, and goes to find Coulson and Agent Hill. Once everyone’s nausea is taken care of and Coulson is located, they waste no time in setting up the device and doing a final check on the heavily modified quinjet waiting on the helicopter pad.

Just before they activate the portal, an odd silence steals through the group. Coulson smiles, a tight, controlled thing. “See you soon.”

A murmured reply ripples through the group, and then everyone but Tony is piling into the jet and Agent Hill activates the portal device.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who isn't dead! Me! Here's an early Christmas gift to you all, and likely my last update of 2015. Sorry this took so long, but I am in university and I do work, so much of my time is taken up! Thank you all for sticking with me this long! 
> 
> Also, I was in a mega-rush to get this chapter up, so there may be more grammatical errors than usual. If you guys spot any, message me and I'll fix 'em ASAP!

Flying through the portal threatens to dig up an entire host of unpleasant memories for Tony, but Loki’s presence rears up in the back of his mind just in time to shove the panic away. _Focus, darling._

Sending a wave of gratitude the god’s way, Tony flies up to take point position, paying careful attention to the readouts on his displays. “Alright guys, I’m sending some data, you need to compensate slightly for gravitational pull warping your path.”

“I thought there wasn’t any gravity in space?”

“Jupiter has gravity, Steve, look its literally right there,” Bucky answers distractedly, his voice and Steve’s crackling through the comms as they argue about space physics.

Tony doesn’t even have a chance to reply before Natasha’s missions voice cuts in. “Guys, shut up. Relevant information only.”

“Sorry,” Steve mumbles. Sighing, Tony pushes forward, sensors set to the maximum, and simply _looks._ With Natasha’s rule of radio silence unless otherwise necessary, the only thing Tony can hear is his own breath and a slight humming coming from his suit. The silence is eerie, pressing in on his eardrums with a weight that only the absence of something can have.

The thing about space is that it is contrast and contradiction without any of the harmonizing or tempering factors that can be found on Earth. It is full of pockets of blackness that you wouldn’t quite expect when you look up at it. Sure, there’s light, they’re too close to Jupiter not to have any, but up there, being consumed by silence, Tony can’t help but realize just how empty and disparate space is. All around him he can see pinpricks of light, more moons than he has ever considered, all looking so close, but the beauty of which is completely dampened by the knowledge that those things are not there, they are not close at all, and are nowhere near touching Tony’s pocket of nothingness. It is humbling, awe inspiring, and _terrifying_ all at once, and oh so captivating. It feels like he can float here forever and become a part of time itself. He has the time, the knowledge, and the money; Tony could build himself a ship, could explore the universe until the end of his days, can see himself getting addicted to the alien landscape of the stars.

A blip on his display shakes Tony out of his little daydream. “Well shit. He’s here. The signal is fuzzy, there’s too much interference to get an accurate read, but I’d say that the largest ship is just past Callisto.” 

“Take the jet through the gases surrounding the planet,” Loki orders. “Tony, you are small enough to go around without appearing on their sensors.”

“Lo, the gases are abrasive, the jet might not—”

“The jet will be fine,” Loki says sharply, cutting him off. His voice holds a note of finality, which everyone has learned not to argue with.

“I’m shutting down the comms,” Natasha says tersely. “See you on the other side, Tony.”

“You’d better,” Tony replies, adrenaline beginning to pump through him. This is it.

He hangs back to watch as the jet sinks into the rust colored clouds surrounding the planet, then he kicks up his speed, weaving through moons and using their gravity to slingshot himself forward. “Jarvis, perform a full systems check and weapons analysis.”

“Nervous, sir?”

“Of course I am, just do it!”

“All systems at optimum levels, weapons are prepared for deployment, and nuclear elements are stable.”

“Excellent, excellent,” Tony mutters, his voice fading away as he catches sight of Thanos’ fleet.

There are thirty ships in total, all but one about the same size. In the center is a ship bigger than any cruiser Tony has ever seen, its bulk a horrifying blight on the peaceful chill of the universe around it. Its design looks like it would have been organic at some point, but had been perverted by ugly shapes formed by unsettling technology, and a combination of everything else that can be deemed unequivocally wrong and sick and twisted.

The very sight of it sets off some primal urge, telling Tony to run, to escape, to go nowhere near that ship. It tells him that the ship is a promise of disease and death and suffering, teeming with the kind of creatures born of a pit and that dwell in the deep, dark places where light has never touched and any sane being avoids. It calls to mind images not of darkness, but of complete and utter desolation. The ships that surround it are miniatures of its immense bulk, like the spawn of a curse.

Some sick part of Tony thinks it looks awesome. _Focus, darling,_ Loki chides once again, unable to stop a small amount of apprehension from slipping through the bond. _Make for the smaller ship in the rear. He will not be on the large one, it is a decoy._

_You sure?_

_Yes, I know his tactics well._

Acknowledging Loki’s words, Tony hangs back for a bit longer, waiting for the jet to emerge from Jupiter’s gases and then following it to the ship Loki had specified. Closer up, it’s nearly twice the size of Tony’s yacht and probably three times as intimidating. Of course, closer up, Tony also notices something else. _Uh, Lo, how are we getting in? There’s nowhere to land._

The mental equivalent of a snort echoes through the bond. _I will take care of that. It is a simple matter._

_If you say so,_ Tony responds, trying not to think about how much power Loki’s used already. True, the god has three arc reactors at his disposal, as well as his own reserves of energy and what he can draw from Tony, but that doesn’t exactly erase Tony’s worries. He just can’t shake off the feeling that something isn’t right, even when he ignores the fact that they’re basically launching a nine-person attack on a fleet of aliens—why the fuck can’t he have a normal life?—there’s just something that doesn’t sit right, and he can’t tell what it is.

Shaking himself mentally, Tony tucks in close to the jet, sending data over in quick bursts so that Natasha can keep track of his position, encoded with a scramble of filler so that only the jet can read it, hopefully. Once they get nearer to the ship, Tony sets off a signal jammer that should also function as a cloaking device. It works excellently for the military jets Rhodey fitted the technology on, so it should be good enough for space. Only the mounting tension from Loki’s end of the bond makes Tony doubt the success of their mission, despite the relative ease they’ve managed so far.

Finally close enough to the ship to dock, Tony watches with utter fascination as a section of the enemy ship melts away, while a bubble of atmosphere simultaneously spreads to engulf both the opening and the hatch of the jet.

“Oh that is so _cool._ Jarvis, tell me you’ve been taking readings!”

“I have been continuously gathering information since the portal was opened,” Jarvis replies primly, sounding extremely patronizing.

“Remind me why I keep you around?” Tony mutters, maneuvering himself forward to the bubble of atmosphere. Wisely, Jarvis doesn’t respond. _Can I just… go in?_ He asks hesitantly, floating just outside the bubble.

_Yes, it will allow you access without compromising the structure._

_Cool!_ Cautiously—and curiously—Tony pushes forward, watching with fascination as his hand passes through what seems like a membrane. It clings to and seals off each dip and crack in the suit, allowing no breach where the breathable atmosphere might escape through into the vacuum of space. In front of him the rest of the team disembarks from the jet, using the lack of gravity to propel themselves across the space.

Curiously, Tony looks over at the jet, where Natasha is standing securely on the floor, and then at Clint, who has decided to do a zero-gravity cartwheel on the way over to the enemy ship. “How’d you get gravity on the jet?” He asks.

“Magic,” Natasha calls back grinning.

“How isn’t the gravity on the ship compromised?”

“Magic,” Loki says with a smirk. He’s the last one off the jet, and behind him follows a black ball of fur.

“You brought the cat?” Tony asks, bewildered.

“Tsunya is my familiar, she will prove useful,” the god responds. Once Tony lands in the ship the wall seals behind him and Loki bends down to trail his fingers over Tsunya. Magic sparks from his fingertips, flashing so bright that Natasha’s eyes light up green for a moment, and then Tsunya grows from a small cat into an enormous black beast,  nearly the size of a horse.

“Huh. Useful. Right. Okay,” Clint grumbles, edging away from the great cat to stand closer to Fandral.

Tony takes one look at Tsunya and shakes his head. “I’m not even surprised anymore.”

“And here I was hoping you would be,” Loki replies playfully, gently stroking one of Tsunya’s ears. The cat rumbles, the sound vibrating up through Tony’s boots, and he realizes it’s a purr.

Tony sighs. “It takes more than that, nowadays.” Loki smirks in a self-pleased manner, and then starts checking over his gear, pulling pieces of armor from seemingly nowhere and buckling them into place on Tsunya as well.

“Alright,” Steve starts once it becomes clear that no one was going to say anything. “We all know the plan. We split into two groups, meet up at the end and forge down the middle. Everyone good?” A ripple of nods flows through the groups, and they all gather into their respective teams. Tony and Loki take Natasha, the cat, and Bucky. Steve gets Bruce, Clint, and the Asgardians.

Neither Steve nor Bucky were happy about being split up when they first started planning, but it was agreed that the split was necessary. The Hulk is a risk to both Bucky and Fandral, but everyone agreed that he seemed less likely to attack Fandral, because he had not been someone the Avengers were actively ‘hunting’ before. Bucky’s fighting style also worked well with Natasha’s, whom he had apparently trained, and with Tony and Loki. Thor and Steve worked extremely well together, and nobody wanted to separate Fandral from Thor, as he was still on a sort of probation. Clint doesn’t like the giant cat, but Natasha loves it. So, the split of the wartime duo was necessary, and they both accepted this in the planning as a necessary evil. Despite that acceptance, they linger together, buying time before the teams have to split.

After a couple of tense seconds, Bucky sighs loudly and runs his hands through his hair. “Well, fuck. You better not hate me later, Stevie,” he blurts out nervously. Steve barely has a second to look confused before Bucky grabs him and kisses him. He probably meant to go in for a quick peck, but before he can pull back Steve’s hands are cradling his face as he kisses him back.

Fighting down the urge to whistle but doing nothing about his grin, Tony turns to his team and waggles his eyebrows. “Coulson’s going to lose his shit when he finds out.” Smugness is evident in his tone.

Natasha snorts. “Why are you so proud of yourself?”

“I totally called it.”

“Did you? Or did Loki point it out?”

Beside him, Loki chuckles and Tony pouts. “No fair! You guys are conspiring behind my back!”

Natasha laughs. “Always so perceptive.” She steps forward and pats Tony on the cheek, two sharp hits that make him wince.

“You’re so mean, Tasha.”

“I’m the worst,” she agrees smugly, grinning. She then turns to Bucky and Steve. “You guys done? We’ve got a madman to kill.”

Surprisingly, Bucky blushes and pulls back while Steve grins, a dazed look in his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah,” he says, looking kind of drunk. Still red, Bucky strides forward, ignoring Steve and barely pausing to look at his team, all of whom, save the cat, are grinning at him.

“Don’t die again, Buck!” Steve calls at Bucky’s retreating back.

Bucky pauses and turns around. “I won’t if you won’t, punk!” He yells back.

“Jerk!”

Bucky snickers once, and then a wide grin spreads across his face.

~~~~

“Oh gross, what the fuck are those?” Tony grouses quietly, looking at the creatures shuffling around.

“Creatures from between the realms. The self-mutilation is aesthetic, I believe,” Loki responds after a pause. Tony has to strain to hear his hushed voice, and curses the fact that they can’t speak through the bond. They’re all fitted out with an arc reactor somewhere on their person to block any attempted mental manipulation, and unfortunately, that includes the bond.

“Nasty.”

“Indeed.”

“Can you two shut up?” Bucky whispers, never taking his eyes off the creatures. “I don’t care about their fashion choices. What are their weaknesses?”

“Their hearts are where one would typically find a kidney. A belly cut is not fatal to them,” Loki recites quietly. “Be sure of your kill, and do not depend on the thought that they will bleed out.”

“Gotcha.”

“Want me to cover you?” Natasha offers. Bucky nods and throws himself around the corner without a trace of hesitation, opting for his knife instead of a gun. Loki follows barely a second later with Tony close on his heels. Three creatures are already dead on the floor, and Tony has the unfortunate experience of discovering that the aliens’ blood looks like pus.

“Disgusting,” he mutters as he adjusts his kills so that the blood splatter won’t reach his suit. He has a feeling that Natasha is laughing to herself from her position away from the nasty pus-blood as her cover fire takes down creature after creature.

“Definitely disgusting,” Bucky agrees, bringing down another one.

The initial shock of their attack having faded, the creatures are almost comically slow when they bring up their weapons and start shooting. “Oh look, they’ve noticed we’re here,” Tony comments dryly. Then he has to duck to avoid getting hit with an energy bolt. The guns are doing nasty shit to the walls and he has no desire to expose his suit to it.

After a few minutes of heavy fighting, the last creature falls to the ground, leaving the team standing in a puddle of the pus-blood. Tsunya makes a great rumbling noise of distress; she’s got the nasty shit in her mouth. Loki quickly casts a cleaning spell on her, while Natasha scratches her chin and croons praises at her. If a cat could ever look grateful, Tsunya would’ve managed it.

“Onwards,” Loki commands after a brief break, and onwards they go. Their progress is slightly slower as they face off with two more patrols, who seem to be slightly more prepared for an attack. Bucky takes a hit to his flesh arm, hissing out in pain as the energy blast singes his skin and killing the alien that fired it with particular relish.

Natasha gets a particularly nasty shot in the leg, taking a blast that would have done considerably more damage to Tony, had it hit. He had been knocked flat on his back and would’ve taken it to his face, which was stupidly left uncovered by his visor.

“Idiot!” She yells, limping over to flick him between his eyes. “Keep your stupid face covered!”

“ _Your_ face isn’t covered,” Tony grumps, somehow managing to look grateful, concerned, apologetic, and guilty all at once.

“That’s because I’m not stupid enough to need it,” she replies, hissing slightly as Loki leans down to examine the wound.

“There is sever tissue damage,” he tuts. “It can be healed, but it will take more time than is available, even with rapid self-healing.” Natasha grimaces, and Loki shrugs apologetically. “A quick fix is all I can offer, and you’ll have to keep your weight off of it.” There’s an odd undertone to his voice that catches Tony as out of place. It sounds almost relieved, maybe even smug, which can’t possibly be right. Not even Loki would be pleased that his friend got injured.

Shaking his head over so wrong a thought—he definitely must’ve misread something—Tony flicks down his face plate as Loki helps Natasha to sit astride Tsunya’s shoulders. The cat is undoubtedly big enough, and the two cut an imposing figure, especially with the way Natasha is glowering as she hefts her guns.

Bucky takes one look at her face, shudders, and edges closer to Tony. “Why was your visor up, anyways?”

“My nose was itchy,” Tony admits in a small voice, feeling honestly truly stupid. What kind of moron takes off his protective gear to scratch an itch in a firefight? Him, apparently.

Looking flabbergasted, Bucky shakes his head and rubs his hand over his face. “You _are_ an idiot,” he mutters, voice pitched low so as not to irritate Natasha even further.

Electing to ignore that, Tony changes the subject. “Why isn’t an alarm going off? We’ve taken out three patrols, there’s no way they don’t know we’re here.”

“Oh, they know,” Natasha comments darkly.

“He is enjoying the show we are providing,” Loki adds on bitterly. “For the moment, we are play-things.”

“Well that’s fun.”

“Immensely.”

“Will you two shut up?” Bucky snaps. “Jesus, Nat you’re almost as bad as Tony.” He pauses, and moves closer to the wall, his eyes scanning the corridor ahead of them. “I see something moving.”

Gun poised, he watches carefully, and then exhales softly a second later. “It’s Steve.”

“How can you be so sure?” Natasha asks quizzically.

Bucky just grins and whistles softly, and half a second later a reply whistle floats around the corner. “Yup, that’s Stevie all right,” he says smugly. All caution gone, Bucky walks over with ease as Steve rounds the corner, followed by the rest of the team.

“I can’t believe you still remember that!” Steve laughs, smiling and looking only a little bit strained.

“As if I’d ever forget something that useful, punk.”

“Jerk,” Steve tosses back affectionately, striding forward and pulling Bucky into a kiss that is definitely a more passionate echo of the one Bucky had given him earlier.

“Seriously, again?” Clint complains, rubbing his hand over his face and looking like an extremely grumpy old man.

“No time like the present,” Steve replies a second later, pulling away from Bucky with a happy sigh. “If I’m going to die, I’m going to die happy.”

“Seconded,” Bucky quips.  

“Nobody is going to die,” Loki says with disdain.

“We have to at least find _somebody_ important before we die,” Natasha grumbles, leaning forward to scratch Tsunya behind an ear.

As if her words are a magic switch, the lights dim around them, leaving one seemingly innocuous hallway bright and suddenly immensely intimidating. “Well that is oddly convenient,” Fandral comments idly, checking over his weapons before looking around at everyone and gesturing forwards. “Shall we?”

Loki snorts and takes the point position, with Bucky and Steve falling back on his flanks. Tony follows at his own point, flanked by Thor and Fandral. Natasha takes up the rear with Hulk, who is oddly content to follow Tsunya around, and Clint floats between the groups, doing his best to always keep his sights clear. The hallway is exactly like the others they’ve walked through, with nothing remarkable to set it apart. Rough, stone-like metal makes up the floors, walls, and ceiling, irregularly punctuated by lights sunken into every surface, and glassed over to diffuse the light. In and of itself, the hallway is not overly bright, and combined with the completely nonsensical placement of light, it looks downright creepy. So, basically, like every other hallway on this nightmare of a ship.

Nothing special, except for the buzzing that starts up in Tony’s ears; buzzing and a fair bit of pressure, which he shouldn’t be getting from inside his suit. “Anybody else getting weird pressure in their ears?”

“And buzzing,” Bucky adds, “I can’t be the only one.”

Coming to a sudden stop, Loki whirls around, eyes flashing. “Everyone, look into my eyes. _Now,_ ” he orders, looking halfway to frantic as his gaze flicks around, looking into each pair of eyes. After a couple of tense seconds, his posture softens and relief flickers across his face. “He is attempting to get into your minds, but it looks like Tony’s reactors are working. Try to ignore the buzzing,” he advises. Then, as abruptly as he stopped, he falls into motion again without any other explanation. Shrugging, Tony continues behind him while most of the others scramble to get back into their positions.

A minute later, the pressure fades but the buzzing seems to increase in volume, sounding very similar to the droning of a very large swarm of bees. Tony isn’t really sure which one is worse; the pressure was uncomfortable but the buzzing grates on his nerves and sets him on edge. _Seriously Lo, the fuck is with this buzzing?_

A couple of tense seconds pass while Tony waits for the god to reply, and then the answer comes, tinged with anger. _He is trying to find weaknesses in our defenses. Which happen when we **speak like this.**_

_Right, shit, sorry!_ Tony replies, slipping away from the mental contact and feeling stupid. All he’s done is fucked up today, hasn’t he? Holding himself carefully, Tony pays even more attention to his surroundings, determined more than ever before to do his part and stop this madman.

****

Loki takes careful not of his surroundings, including the positions of his rag-tag team. A year ago, a mere blink in the lifetime of a god, he would have never thought that so many people would trust him and willingly follow him on this mad venture. Yet here they are, the people he would never have even tried to wish for, the people who had made him dare to hope. And in that miniscule shard of hope, Loki is nearly certain they will survive. If only he was not limited so by this condition! Breathing carefully, he shakes the ridiculous thought from his head. He need not fight as fiercely if he can gain an opportunity to use blood magic. So long as someone manages to distract Thanos long enough, blood magic will end him, but the distraction will have to be colossal. The one weakness of blood magic is that it is easy to stop before it is cast, and it is very easy to tell when one is casting, and the casting is not immediate. Putting his faith in the others, Loki focuses once more on his surroundings.

As the end of the hallway looms before them, a strangely opulent set of doors offers a jarring contrast to the rough, cave-like appearance of the hallway, Loki fights back the feeling that the final kill will be taken from him by one of the others. It bothers him, as he feels it is his right to land the killing blow, but he decides to ignore it and allow it if it happens. His own satisfaction is a small price to pay if it means Thanos’ death.

****

Pausing before the door, Tony finds himself to be completely free of unease, which is fucking weird. But, despite the weirdness, all he really wants is to barge right in and make the purple fucker _suffer._ For everything. For New York, for Loki, hell, for the fact that he burnt his fucking tongue on his coffee the other day. In the moment before the door is opened, Tony wants nothing less than blood.

“No theatrics in there,” Natasha hisses softly, quickly killing Tony’s thoughts. “We stick together, and if one of you sees a clear kill, _you take it_ , but no fancy speeches, no revenge. We get in, and we get out.” Clint nods along, as does Bucky in some unified assassin agreement.

After everyone nods, Loki turns and… knocks on the door.

“You’re just going to knock?” Clint asks incredulously.

“Do you see any other way to get the door open?” Loki asks archly, and now that Tony looks at it, he realizes there is no doorknob, no keyhole, no keypad, no lock, and no windows. Just a door. A door that nobody is opening.

Frowning slightly, he breaks formation and walks up to it, tilting his head as he looks at it. “Do you think it’s electric?”

“Probably,” Bucky agrees hesitantly.

Humming thoughtfully, Tony flicks his write to slide back his gauntlets, ignoring someone’s hissed “ _Tony!”_ and presses his hands flat on the door. _C’mon, open,_ he thinks, reaching out for the mechanics of the door. He feels a twitch of response from the ornate metal, but nothing happens. _Move, dammit!_ He demands, barely restraining from grinding his teeth in frustration as the fucking thing resists him, almost as if it is alive. A bead of sweat runs down the back of Tony’s neck, and he focuses everything he has on the door.

_“Open,”_ he commands, and the voice that slips from his lips is barely recognizable as his own. The air around him shimmers from the force of his command and the door shudders, visibly shaking in its frame before slowly, unwillingly, sliding open. Exhaling softly, Tony steps back and the world dips sharply before settling back into place. Luckily, his suit covered his stumble and his face, which he’s absolutely certain is pale and sweaty. Sliding his gauntlets back onto his hands, he motions for Loki to step up next to him and pretends that he is absolutely fine. Loki has no mental link to him, and no direct visual either, so he buys it and no questions are asked as he joins his husband in front of the door.

In complete silence, Tony and Loki lead the others through a deceptively empty ante-chamber and into the room beyond.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... So hey, I'm alive! I've finished my exams for this year, and I'm now officially on summer vacation!! And on that note, I'm so sorry for keeping you guys waiting for this last chapter. University has decided to chew me up and spit me out, and damn I'm surprised I survived it.
> 
> Anyways, here's the last chapter! I hope you guys like it!

_It is too easy,_ Loki thinks to himself. _Even taking into account the bastard’s manipulative nature, this is far too easy._ A dawning realization comes to the god, and he does not bother to hide his grimace. _He means this to be a slaughter._

****

The first thing Tony notices, the truly first thing, is how absurd it is that the being sitting in front of them is purple. In the truly panicked way of those convinced of their death, there is little the man can do to hold back a giggle. Despite its slightly hysterical roots, the small sound is ominously large in the silent room, and it wipes the satisfied smirk off of Thanos’ face. To either side of Tony, Natasha and Loki’s mouths quirk up in twin smirks of amusement. Honestly, they’ve all got a fucking death wish at this point, because the purple guy doesn’t appreciate their amusement. He glowers, his expression darkening further.

In the few seconds of silence since they had entered the room, Thanos had kept their full attention. Now, Clint is the first to twitch as shadows begin to slither along the walls, looking entirely too corporeal for anyone’s comfort. Unease slips through the group, and Thanos notices. He grins, shedding his sour expression. His eyes are flat, emotionless, and combined with the grin he looks completely deranged. Now, Tony has seen his fair share of insane beings—in fact he seems to attract them—but never has he seen a creature look so absolutely twisted. Dread slivers down his spine, and he has to fight the sudden need to edge closer to Loki. Outwardly, he stands straighter, refusing to flinch away from Thanos’ gaze and ignoring the shadows. He is Tony Fucking Stark, and he backs down from no one. 

The silent stare down ends as Thanos stands, spreading his arms and bowing mockingly. “Welcome back, little god.” He keeps his attention solely on Loki, as if no one else is in the room. Tony is torn between being insulted and suspicion. Internally, he is debating whether or not this is a ploy or if the guy’s as insane as he looks. Under the cover of his faceplate, he sneaks a glance around the room. The shadows Thanos has surrounded them with are unlike anything Tony has seen so far, and between the Chitauri invasion and their walk through this war ship, Tony has seen a lot. The shadows seem less shadowy and more like _things_ by the second. These creatures—if they are creatures—are beginning to look like nightmares, if nightmares could take physical form.

They are pitch black, though less like the color and more like the absence of color, which makes them look unnervingly flat, like moving holes cut into the world. Mixed in with the flatness are bits and pieces that stand out in nauseating contrast. The pieces, still black bring images of death and rot to mind. What makes the whole thing worse is that their forms shift constantly, bubbling and melting like boiling tar. It’s disgusting, and a nauseating wave of dizziness forces Tony to look away, bringing his attention back to Thanos.

“I see you have raided the void,” Loki sighs casually, flicking his eyes around the room with disdain. “I cannot imagine that your lady will be happy about that.”

“She will forgive me when I send them back with your souls,” Thanos replies, almost dreamily in his anticipation of his lady’s favor. Shuddering, Tony quickly adds another few layers to his mental defenses, and quite a few more to Loki’s.

The god in question smirks, and his team tenses around him, ready to fly into action. “Death does not know forgiveness,” he states with regal solemnity. Then, without any further warning, Loki launches himself forward, whipping a dagger from god knows where. Tony and the rest are not far behind him. Thanos looks pissed and brings out his own weapon: a wicked looking staff. He blocks Loki’s attack, snarling.

He’s probably a little bit pissed off about being unable to finish his evil rant. Tony snickers, questioning his own sanity at the sound, and moves in with Bucky to confront the swarming nightmares.

Claws, spikes, and other weapon-like shapes sprout from their bodies, giving form to the word _terror_ as they rush the group of Avengers, screeching like twisting metal. Like Tony and Bucky, the others split into pairs, working in tandem with each other and other groups to kill the things.

Except… _the things won’t die._

Any hits they land on the nightmares are swallowed up in darkness; any wounds that should be are not. Even slicing off limbs doesn’t work, as whatever it is they cut off melts into the shadows and slithers back up to where it came from.

For a frighteningly long time, Tony completely loses sight of Loki as he is forced to throw his full attention into the fight surrounding him. By pure chance, or perhaps as a result of desperation, Tony reaches out to a nightmare with a single tendril of magic. Immediately, with the feeling of an elastic snapping under too much strain, Tony’s consciousness is ripped from his body and into the thing.

The creatures are literally darkness given form, ethereal in that they are both physical and not, wholly unnatural yet primordial, older than time, older than the gods themselves, older than the universe; before the universe there was darkness, and before the darkness there were these creatures.

All this information and more fills Tony’s mind in a fraction of a second; millions of pieces of knowledge, completely unwanted, floods from the void of the creature’s center. How so much could be stored in the cold nothingness of the creature’s being is something that Tony never wants the answer for. He breaks out in cold sweat as everything inside him screams, recoiling from the cold touch of the creature. Being the stubborn idiot that he is, however, Tony forces himself to stay, noticing something imbedded in the creature’s consciousness. A twist, something like an aberration, stabs through the corner of the nightmare’s core being. A twist that, despite the abject horridness of the creature, simply does not belong.

Before he can think better of it, Tony shoves at the twist and wills it out of existence. With nauseating speed, he is shot back into his own body when the magic that had been holding him inside the nightmare snaps, severing the connection. In a rush, the sound of fighting fills his ears and he is suddenly keenly aware of every pieces of armor resting on his body, but what holds his attention above everything else is the sight of the nightmare melting away before him, taking its shadows with it.

“Stark, what the fuck are you doing?” Bucky yells angrily, twisting around him and keeping the other shadows at bay.

Shaking his head and ignoring the odd, fluttering weakness in his limbs, Tony jumps back into the fight. “How long was I out?”

“Out? What the fuck are you talking about? You just stood there for a minute or so. What were you doing?”

“I know how to get rid of them.”

“You can kill them?” Steve huffs, fighting his way closer with Thor at his side.

“Can’t kill them, they’re not alive,” Tony grunts, trying to clear space around him.

Steve nods. “The we’ll switch partners. Thor, you keep close to him and use whatever you’ve got to keep a bubble of space around him. Buck, you and I will try and hold an outer perimeter.” Bucky nods, his face settling into grim determination.

“What of the others?” Thor asks, already settling into a defensive position.

“They can keep ranging around, distracting the ones we can’t hold off,” Steve decides, nodding at Bucky and heading off.

Tony takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself, and the last thing he hears is the Hulk roaring before he slides back into crushing darkness.

****

Loki fights with a single-minded purpose, having long ago been separated from his husband and the others by his own decisions and a tide of the void-creatures. Despite his fierceness of fighting, the god is biding his time, waiting for Thanos to slip. It is not until entire groups of creatures begin melting away and he notices that the others are guarding Tony does he realize that waiting is no longer a luxury he possesses.

Slightly put out by his husband’s cleverness and nearly incapacitated with terror that Tony will be overwhelmed by the void, Loki makes the decision to begin with the final stage of his plan slightly ahead of schedule. Trusting that Thanos is sufficiently distracted and will not notice the surge of power, Loki slashes a cut across his palm, preparing to use blood magic.

Once he’s ready to begin, he leans forward and pats Tsunya’s shoulder, hoping his husband will forgive him one more deception. “It is time, my dear.” The great cat growls, a sound so deep it is more felt than heard, and then lets loose an ear-splitting screech.

****

Attacking more than one creature at a time is something that nearly overwhelms Tony, but he doesn’t stop to rest. He attacks a greater number each time, and soon entire hordes are falling out of existence in the face of his determination. After nearly the last group falls, he is shaken out of hid trance, coming back to a pounding head and the world shimmering in a sickening lurch around him. Against his will, his knees buckle and he falls to the floor in an undignified heap, clamping his jaw shut against waves of intense nausea. Sounds begin to filter into his hears, building up layer over layer  until what was once a cloudy silence becomes a crashing crescendo of noise, almost as debilitating as the nausea.

Blearily, Tony looks around the room searching for his husband and trusting his team to defend him. After a few seconds of slow scanning, Loki bursts into Tony’s line of sight, the only sharp figure in a sea of blurs. The god is trading furious blows with Thanos, moving so fast that Tony loses track of his limbs as they whirl around him like a hummingbird’s wings. The one thing he does not lose track of is the heaving of Loki’s chest, betraying how costly the exertion is to the god. If he was not feeling so strangely detached, Tony would probably be feeling more concerned than he is.

Instead, he watches with the barest level of understanding as Thanos pushes Loki back, brandishing a long staff that would fascinate Tony in any other circumstances. As pieces of himself float back bit by bit, Tony becomes aware enough to flinch when Tsunya screeches. He becomes aware enough to notice that Loki flinches too, a tiny movement that distracts the god long enough for Thanos to spin the staff around and land a brutal blow on the god’s stomach. The hit sends Loki flying across the room and into a wall, producing a dull thud that seemed to undermine all the noise in the room.

“No,” Tony croaks, muffled horror settling around him.

_Loki. The babies. Loki. The babies. No no no no no no no._

He tries to move towards the god, but even the slightest movement sets the world spinning around him with such intensity that he nearly blacks out. Across the room Loki doesn’t move, staying in a crumpled heap on the floor as Thanos walks over to him, raising the staff. The weapon begins crackling with energy, producing electric currents so powerful that Tony can feel them from the other side of the room. A hit from that would guarantee death, god or not.

Struggling to do something, anything, Tony desperately flings his power outwards, causing his vision to darken dangerously, and finds the energy of the staff. With a final burst of effort, Tony kills the staff, much like he had Bucky’s arm, and pulls every bit of energy from it, magical and electrical. The foreign power burns as he pulls it into himself—because where else is he going to put it?—and a hollow ringing starts up in his left ear while heat seems to concentrate behind his eye. Despite the pain, Tony grins because it works. It stops Thanos for a second and makes him twist his features in fury.  With a snarl, he casts the weapon aside, instead ripping a savage little knife from his belt. “This is the end, little god.”

Trembling, Loki lifts his head, but his expression is not one of defeat. “Is it?” He smirks, smug defiance on his face as his features melt away, revealing a red headed assassin who is certainly not Loki. “Surprised?” Natasha pants out, grinning wickedly.

****

“What is this?” Thanos yells, whirling around and casting his eyes about the room. The remaining nightmare creatures melt back on some undetectable command, leaving everyone exposed to the mad creature’s gaze. Confusion is clear on everyone’s face, except the other Natasha, who is smugly sitting atop the great cat.

“I do believe,” Loki says conversationally as he lets Natasha’s form melt away, “that this is called a trick.”

Letting loose a formless scream, Thanos leaps forward, raising the knife to strike as insane rage clouds his eyes. He is inhumanly fast, but Loki is faster. His hands flash out in an odd gesture, purple blood staining the tips of his fingers and dripping from one palm. His skin shifts from pale porcelain to intense blue in the blink of an eye, and icy cold blasts throughout the room. The cold intensifies on Thanos, halting his mad rush and obscuring him from sight in a cyclone of icy white air thick with snow. His scream cuts off in a choked garble amid the sound of shifting ice, cracking and grating against itself. After a couple intense seconds, the remaining nightmare creatures drop out of existence, and after a couple of seconds more, Loki lowers his arms, swaying dangerously.

The winds calm, revealing a large chunk of ice surrounded by little drifts of snow. In the silence that follows, Loki takes a moment to look around the room, reassuring himself that his entire family still stands. All are around him, their little puffs of breath visible in the chilled air, something that Loki deems an extremely reassuring sight. Groaning, Banner shrinks back into himself, shattering the post-battle silence. Loki quickly conjures him a blanket before turning to Thor. “Brother, if you would,” he rasps, motioning towards the lump of ice.

Nodding in reply, Thor raises his hammer and channels concentrated lighting into the ice. It does not take long for the ice to burst, shattering outwards into thousands of pieces. Almost lazily, Loki flicks his fingers, throwing up shields around his team members to protect them from the shards of ice. With a touch more effort, Loki sets the place ablaze, trying to ignore his bone-deep exhaustion.

“Someone pick up my husband,” he orders. “I do not think he can stand.”

“Right as always,” Tony agrees, his voice a faint whisper. It is worrying, but there is nothing Loki can do in this place.

“Back to Midgard, then?” Fandral offers cheerfully, picking up Tony and starting towards the door. Wearily, the others follow him. Thor and Loki bring up the rear, lighting fires that will burn until there is nothing left for the flames to consume.

Returning to the jet is a speedy affair, as there is little need for stealth and they do not have to constantly stop to fight. Once on the ship, Loki lowers the mental barriers between Tony and himself only to find a curious blankness instead of the warmth of connection. “Damn, he did too much! Lay him down!” He barks, jumping off of Tsunya and limping over to Tony. The others scatter out of his way, confusion and worry taking over their disbelieving triumph from before. Fandral hurries over to one of the benches and sets Tony down carefully before jumping out of Loki’s way.

“Jarvis, fold back his visor.” The AI responds in the affirmative and releases the faceplate, revealing Tony’s lax face and closed eyes. Swearing again, Loki immediately dives into his husband’s mind to see the extent of the damage the nightmare creatures had caused. He is vaguely aware of the flurry of activity surrounding him as the others turn the jet for home.

****

                                                                                     

 

 

 

 

                                                                                      _…won’t wake up…_

_….cannot find any more damage…_

_…the void…._

_…too far…_

_…please wake up, please…_

_…I love you, you gave me life again, please wake up…._

_…Tony, please, I never say please…._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tony comes to with a gasp, his eyes flying open to the familiar sight of his bedroom. Almost immediately, Loki’s presence wraps around his mind, overflowing with such relief that it’s almost painful. The god himself burst into the room barely a second later, his entire body losing its usual regal composure as he slumps against the doorframe, creating such a picture of relief that Tony feels a sliver of fear.

“How long?” He rasps, his voice hoarse from disuse and making him wince.

“Two weeks. Two weeks of absolutely no sign that you’ve survived,” Loki replies, his relief quickly morphing into anger. “If you where you not breathing, I would have thought you dead. What possessed you to do that?” He roars, recovering himself enough to stride up to Tony, his eyes flashing. Despite his harsh tone and aggressive manner, the hand he grips Tony’s with is shaking.

“I had to give you time for whatever you were planning,” Tony croaks, coughing when his throat tries to stick together. Almost instantly, Loki presses a cup of water to Tony’s lips, and he drinks gratefully, holding the cup himself after a few gulps. When he finishes, he sighs and leans back against his pillows, momentarily overcome by the pure bliss of fresh water.

Then annoyance cuts through the feeling, and he fixes Loki with a glare. “By the way, I am so mad at you.”

Loki glares right back. “The feeling is mutual.”

“You tricked me!”

“You almost died!”

“I thought he got the babies, do you have any idea how terrified I was?”

“I gave you immortality and you still found a way to die!”

“But I didn’t die, so lay off!”

“And the babies are fine, so _let it go.”_

Both Tony and Loki stop to take in a deep breath, neither willing to drop the argument, when they hear a low chuckle from the doorway. They turn simultaneously to see Bruce and Natasha standing just outside the room.

“Told you he was up,” Natasha says triumphantly, elbowing Bruce in the ribs. Then she leans back, turning in the direction of the living area. “He’s finally up! Also, Steve, you owe me five bucks!”

Distantly, Tony can hear Steve complaining. “Seriously? They couldn’t wait an hour before they started yelling at each other?”

“I told you not to bet against Nat, Stevie.”

“Shut up, Buck.”

“Everyone’s up here?” Tony asks, confused.

“We’ve all barely left, except when we had to,” Bruce explains, smiling as he starts checking Tony’s vitals. “Judging by the fact that you’re sitting up on your own and yelling, I’d say you’re pretty much recovered. Except for that eye of yours, you should be back to normal in a couple of days if you avoid any strenuous activity.”

“My eye? What’s wrong with my eye?” He turns to his husband. “Lo? It’s not blindness, I can still see properly.”

“You did too much. Those creatures literally _were_ the void, anchored here through Thanos. You used up all of your magical reserves, and as I have not yet taught you how to draw from an external source, you began to use your life-force to fuel your actions.”

“Oh,” Tony responds quietly.

Loki makes an annoyed face. “Oh indeed. Your eye died, and then regenerated thanks to the apple. It is different now, as your old one was claimed by the void.” He smirks as worry builds up in Tony. “Do not worry, darling. I think it gives you a rakish charm.”

Apprehension flits though Tony, and he turns to the one person who he can count on for giving him a straight answer. “Nat, what does _different_ mean?”

She hesitates for barely a second as she flickers her eyes around his face. “Your left eye is completely black, no pupil or iris or anything, and we’re not sure but sometimes it might possibly flash gold when you use your magic.”

“You’re not sure?” He questions, frowning.

“Your eyes have been closed for a long time,” she shrugs. “Nothing ever flared up while Bruce was checking them out, but something definitely flashed every now and then.”

“Well that’s not creepy at all,” Tony grumbles sarcastically, reaching up to rub the eye in question. Loki catches his hand before he can touch his face, dragging it back down to his lap.

“I can teach you to put a glamor over it, if it bothers you,” he offers quietly. “No one need know it looks any different, if you want.”

“I think it looks cool!” Clint calls from somewhere outside the room. His words are quickly followed by a thump and hurried whispers. “Shut up, Steve, I _am_ being sensitive. I’m being super sensitive! Tony _loves_ looking cool!” Then comes another thump and angry muttering, prompting a laugh to bubble up from Tony’s throat.

“Thanks, man! You know, maybe I can wear an eyepatch like Fury. We’ll be twins!”

“No!” Clint yells. “There are enough people with eyepatches running around!”

 “I did prefer your brown eye,” Loki says quietly and in all seriousness, “but this look suits you as well.”

Tony snorts. “Really?”

“You look quite mysterious.”

“Were we on Asgard,” Fandral adds in, poking his head into the bedroom, “all would bow to such an obvious sign of honor.”

“So I’m mysteriously honorable?” Tony asks playfully.

“It seems so,” Loki agrees.

“Alright then, no eyepatch.”

“Thank god!” Clint sighs. “Imagine _two_ Furys!”

“Get your rude ass off my floor, Barton! I’d look sexy in an eyepatch and you know it!”

“Shut up, asshole, I was worried about you,” Clint replies, pushing past Natasha and striding into Tony’s room. “I’m glad to see you’re okay.” Grinning, Tony gives Clint the middle finger and the archer cackles, flipping him off in return before striding away.

The others follow his example, coming up one by one to reassure themselves of Tony’s recovery and then leaving, presumably to spend the news and finally sleep, in Bruce’s case. Everyone came in except Coulson, whose presence Tony had come to expect in the tower, Pepper, and Thor. When the last person finally leaves, Tony asks Loki about them.

His husband, in the middle of climbing into the bed next to Tony, pauses for a second, obviously debating how much he should share. Tony sighs. “Sometimes I can tell exactly what you’re thinking, even without the bond, and sometimes I’m completely lost. I still can’t believe you managed to trick me.”

“I needed to,” Loki explains quietly, settling himself against Tony and pulling his hands to rest on his belly. “You are a terrible liar when it comes to me. You constantly call me by my name or the ridiculous pet names you’ve made for me, even when I am not supposed to be myself. Your eyes track me. You always attempt to put yourself between me and anything that might be a threat, even though I am _perfectly capable_ of protecting myself.”

“I don’t do that!” Tony interrupts, searching his memory for anything close to what Loki is describing. “At least, I think I don’t,” he tacks on unsurely.

“You do,” Loki says in a condescending manner. “You _really_ do. Especially since you found out about the pregnancy. And before you ask why the deception was at all necessary, it was because I needed Thanos to be completely distracted so that I would be able to use blood magic.”

“Blood magic?”

“Yes. It is immensely powerful and nearly unstoppable once cast. However, it requires a lot of preparation, both mentally and magically. The individual using blood magic must be fully concentrated. If even a stray thought distracts you, the magic could take you over. Additionally, blood magic uses a lot of power, which takes a certain amount of time to build up before the spell can be release. Obviously, these two issues are drawbacks, which is why blood magic is very rarely used. Blood cast spells can be blocked or shattered before they are fully formed, and they are quite noticeable during the conjuring process, due to the sharp increase of power around the castor. Had Thanos not been so thoroughly livid, which was poisoning his ability to focus, he would have stopped me. Any spell of lesser power or even a regular killing blow would not have ended him.”

Loki’s explanation, lengthy as it is, makes perfect sense. “I still hate being kept in the dark,” Tony grumbles, most of his arguments fading away in the face of Loki’s logic. “Enough avoiding, by the way. Where are the others?”

“You are the one who changed the subject.”

“Lo.”

The god sighs, a fond smile playing across his mouth. “Yes, yes. Miss Potts is currently with Agent Coulson at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. They were called there early this morning, when satellites found and confirmed the mass body of ships—or rather, debris that was once a fleet—floating aimlessly near Jupiter. Currently they, along with Agent Hill, are negotiating my political release, arguing extortion and torture and other unsavory things in order to excuse my actions, while finalizing the documents that make me, as Frey, an official Avenger. Last we heard, Miss Potts had Fury backed into a corner, and he apparently looked reluctantly impressed. You may have to fight to keep her in your employ, as Barton is convinced she would make a better agent.”

Tony lets loose a low whistle. “I kind of feel bad for Fury. When Pepper sets her mind on something, _it happens._ There’s no such thing as resisting.”

“Indeed,” Loki says with a smirk. “I do believe that through her efforts, I will be able to live a very comfortable life here.”

Tony snorts. “As if you weren’t already snugly at home, you bastard.”

“Silence,” the god retorts, flicking Tony’s forehead and eliciting a yelp. “Even _I_ get tired of hiding. Guilt flickers quickly across Tony’s face, but before he can even start to apologize for his joke, Loki leans over and swiftly kisses him. “Do not even start,” he warns. “Your guilt is ridiculous.”

Sighing, Tony leans in for another kiss. “If you say so. Okay, so that’s two out of three. What about Thor?”

“Ah….” Loki replies eloquently. “That is a bit more complicated to explain.”

“Well, I’ve got a feeling that Bruce doesn’t want me to get out of bed for a while, so you’ve got plenty of time to explain.”

The god sighs. “Thor actually left immediately after we returned, and Fandral accompanied him. Together they had planned to entreat Asgard to assist with destroying the remaining army, as they still posed a threat. From what I am given to understand, they were at first refused but then a prophecy came forth from the Seers’ Guild, which the entire court was made privy to. Fandral has not said much, but I have been led to believe that the whole affair was quite shocking. After that, their request was granted. Thor was given a legion of Asgardian fighters who were able to completely destroy the remnants of Thanos’ fleet. All of this happened a week ago.”

“So then why isn’t Thor back? With me unconscious and you so close to your due date, we usually wouldn’t be able to get rid of him.”

“Thor’s absence is not… entirely by choice,” Loki replies slowly, frustration clouding his face. “Fandral has been back and forth as messenger several times, providing what information he can to both sides. He was planning to leave again just before you awakened, and I’m certain he’s left by now to tell Thor and likely my mother of your recovery.”

Tony nods, putting pieces together in his mind but still coming up blank. “What aren’t you telling me? They wouldn’t hold Thor prisoner, would they?”

“No, they would not,” Loki assures him quietly. “It seems that Asgard is demanding that I be returned to their custody, citing political reasons. Thor is attempting to delay any outright actions by spreading news of my pregnancy, which has by now become common knowledge.”

“I don’t see how that would help. Aren’t you technically weaker right now? Wouldn’t it be easier to capture you?”

Loki snickers and then shakes his head, his expression sobering. “Asgard has ancient laws, older even than the Allfather’s sire, which state that children, regardless of their race or parentage, are not to be harmed. Even the children of frost giants were spared and brought to safety during the wars.”

“Uh, not to, um, bring up bad memories, but hasn’t he already…” Tony trails off, trying to find some sort of sensitive way to phrase his question.

“Hasn’t he already disregarded those rules, you mean?’ Loki supplies, saving his husband from a potential headache. “Yes, he has, but that was not widely known. The official cause of my sons’ deaths was a ‘magical accident’,” Loki says derisively. “This time, Thor was clever. Upon returning, he immediately began boasting to my mother about her impending grandchildren, born to his shield brother the Man of Iron. So that effectively took care of the nobility, and I do believe he let it slip in the court of commons as well. Not only did it become public knowledge that I am pregnant, but it also spread that you—a savior of Midgard, shield brother to the Mighty Thor, he who has stolen a star to be his heart—are the father. Politically, it makes a world of difference,” Loki finishes with a grin, laughing at Tony’s shocked expression.

“Exactly how many titles do I have?”

“More than me,” Loki replies, “and I am a prince and betrayer both.”

“It doesn’t count as betraying if the guy getting betrayed was a dick to begin with,” Tony states absent-mindedly. “Would all of my titles fit on a business card?”

“Probably,” the god laughs, prompting a smile from Tony as well. “The latest news we have received suggests that negotiations are coming to a head. Thor should be back soon with the final verdict.”

“How soon is soon?”

Loki shrugs. “A couple of weeks at worst.”

“I hope he gets back before the twins are born. He’ll be really sad if he misses it, and I don’t want to deal with the bad weather he’ll bring if that happens.”

“There’s still a month left until I am due,” Loki reminds him.

“True,” Tony nods, “but Bruce told me that twins tend to be born early, because there’s not much room for them or something.”

Loki hums, tilting his head curiously. “I had not known that. Perhaps I ought to begin walking around as a woman.”

Tony frowns, completely thrown for a loop. “As a woman? Why?”

“It would make it somewhat easier to give birth if one has the necessary bits, don’t you think?”

“Oh,” Tony replies dumbly. “Right. I forgot about that part.”

“Only _you_ would forget about that.”

“Shut up, I’ve been out for two weeks! I’m allowed to be a little slow on the uptake,” Tony cries out indignantly, which earns him another flick to the head. “Ouch! Okay, fine, I’m an idiot! Happy?”

“Extremely,” Loki replies dryly. Tony huffs in annoyance, and then starts pushing and shoving Loki around until the god is lying back against his chest. Loki, on his part, allows himself to be manhandles with minimal amounts of laughter, settling into his new spot with grace as the room falls into a contented silence.

“Tony?”

“Yeah, Lo?”

The god sighs, putting his hands over Tony’s. “I love you.”

Tony chuckles, tangling his fingers with Loki’s. “I love you too, Lo.”

In the comfort of their room, surrounded by their bubble of disgustingly cheesy domestic bliss, Tony lets himself relax—completely relax—and think that maybe, just maybe, they’re going to be okay. They just took out an insane genocidal alien that was literally in love with Death. Navigating Asgard’s ridiculous politics hardly seems like a problem in comparison. They’ve got a good team backing them up, and a shit ton of determination. It seems that Tony can let himself think, with near certainty, that they will _make_ themselves be okay.

 

**THE END!!**

**…..**

**AND AN EXTRA STORY!**

**_Steve and Bucky’s Wartime Romance: The Aftermath_ **

Relief flows through Bucky as he follows Steve towards the elevator. Stark had been a big help with settling into this new life, and he owes his sanity to Loki, as weird as that makes him feel. He’s glad Tony turned out okay—strange eye and all. The elevator ride is quiet—both Bucky and Steve are lost in their own thoughts—but when the doors slide open on their floor, Bucky’s train of thought comes to a grinding halt. Steve steps out and turns to him, looking expectant, and Bucky panics.

“I’m going to spar with Clint in the gym,” he blurts out, effectively shooting down Steve’s _we should really talk_ expression.

“Um, okay…” Steve replies, awkwardly turning around with a confused look and walking away, shaking his head as he goes and leaving Bucky to take the ride of shame up to a floor they had already passed. Sighing, he leans his head against the wall and lets out a muffled scream of frustration. He had intended to go back with Steve—he had!—but then he panicked. So, as has been his habit for the past two weeks, Bucky launched into his avoidance policy, spending as little time with Steve as possible.

Miserable and feeling seriously pathetic, he commandeers a treadmill in the gym, sets the speed to a fast-paced jog, and settles in to run until he rattles his brain clear out of his ears. _Why can’t I talk with Steve as easy as I talked to dames?_ He screams internally, huffing and angrily mashing the buttons for a higher speed when the answer presents itself. _Because Stevie is too important, that’s why._

This is how, ironically, Clint of all people finds him. “Dude, what the fuck?” The archer asks eloquently, gesturing vaguely at Bucky yet still managing to convey a specific idea.

Bucky just shrugs and switches off the treadmill.

“I’m no expert,” Clint tries again, “but aren’t you supposed to be in the ‘honeymoon phase’ instead of looking like a death himself?”

“What gave you that idea?”

“I was forced to watch you guys try to swallow each other’s tongues. Twice,” Clint replies with a grimace. “Seriously, are you guys already having a fight?”

“No.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, what happened?”

“Nothing,” Bucky replies, sour-faced. “Absolutely nothing.” Clint just looks at him, unimpressed. Bucky shrugs, waving his hand as he does so and making an indistinct noise.

With that, Clint’s expression goes from unimpressed to disbelief. “Wait. Dude. Seriously? Nothing? The fuck, man?”

“We never really talked about, uh, whatever this is.” Bucky explains. A slight blush colors his face, and Clint makes an exasperated noise, burying his face in his hands.

“Oh my god, why the fuck are you so stupid?”

“Hey!”

“Don’t even start!” Clint yells, jabbing a finger in Bucky’s face. “What the fuck have you been doing for two weeks?”

“Well,” Bucky says, scratching at the back of his neck, “first Stark was out, and it didn’t seem right to—”

“No. Stop. That’s when you’re _supposed_ to do something. You know, comfort in a time of need and all that shit?” Bucky just looks shamefaced at that, so Clint sighs. “Okay, what else?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. and Asgard…” Bucky mumbles, trailing off in the face of Clint’s exasperation.

“So let me get this straight, you left the guy who’s been pining over you for _years_ hanging, the guy you’ve been dancing around and flirting with _for weeks_ , because you’re a chicken shit?”

“No!” Bucky yelps vehemently. “I was just thinking that I didn’t want to force him into anything—”

“ _You shoved your tongue down his throat on an alien ship.”_

“People make a lot of crazy decisions in a war!” Bucky finishes with a yell, throwing his hands up as if his point is the killing blow.

Clint just stares at him with his mouth agape for a full five seconds before groaning loudly. “Jesus Fucking Christ, Barnes! Get your fucking coward ass downstairs and don’t you even fucking _try_ to leave until you and Steve sort out your shit!”

Opening his mouth to respond but then thinking better of it, Bucky turns on his heel and marches off to the elevator. “I’m not a coward,” he mutters angrily, jabbing at the button with more force than necessary.

Clint just huffs at him. “Wipe the sour look off your face, Bucky, or you’ll give Steve the wrong impression!”

“Fuck off Barton!” Evil cackling chases him into the elevator cab where Bucky wilts against the wall. Life was so much simpler before the war.

When the elevator doors ping open, Bucky is somewhat relieved to find Steve sitting on an armchair next to their old radio. At least he wouldn’t have to go searching. Steve looks up as soon as he walks in, and his eyebrows twitch down for a second before his face settles into a cautious smile. Bucky shifts from foot to foot, staring down at the floor. “Hi,” he mutters awkwardly, sneaking a glance up at Steve’s face again.

“Hi…?” Steve echoes, confusion turning his reply into a wavering question. Bucky doesn’t say anything else after that, because apparently his damn brain hates him, and a stifling silence build up between them.

“Buck,” Steve begins, his voice full of stress and that self-sacrificing tone that is so purely _Steve,_  and suddenly Bucky can’t take it anymore.

“You remember the war, Stevie?” He blurts out, nearly blurring the words together in his haste to push them past his lips. “Remember how it changed everything so quickly?”

“Yeah?” Steve replies, his voice tinged with alarm.

Bucky barely pauses to hear his answer. “Remember how we’d do things, thinking ‘who gives a shit, I’m gonna die anyway’ and then surviving and being hit with regret? Do ya remember that Stevie?”

Steve pales, leaning back in his chair with the distinct expression of someone who’s just been punched. “What are you trying to say, Buck?” He asks roughly, his voice sounding hollow.

Bucky doesn’t notice, too far gone in his own nerves. “I’m not… I mean, I’m _not,”_ here Bucky pauses, searching for the right words, and Steve visibly braces himself. “I’m not a regret, am I, Stevie? You don’t regret, uh, _that,_ do you?”

All at once Steve’s breath whooshes out in a giant sigh. “Jesus, Buck!”

“Shit!” Bucky replies, panicking. “I’m right, shit. I knew Clint was wrong! Fucking deaf _and_ blind,” he mutters, backing away quickly.

“Shut up, Bucky!” Steve yells, jumping up to grab Bucky and force him into a seat. “Calm down, you idiot, I don’t regret what we did!”

At that, Bucky’s head whips around and he stares at Steve with wide eyes. “You don’t? But you looked so… sick. Just now…”

“That’s ‘cause I thought you were trying to say _you_ regretted _me,_ ” Steve explained with feeling.

He might as well have been speaking jibberish for  all the sense Bucky could make from his words. “What are you, stupid? Why would I ever—oh. Fucking hell, Clint was right. I’m an idiot. A chicken shit idiot.”

“Chicken shit?” Steve snickers. The humor is short-lived. He kneels in front of Bucky and gently settles his hands on the back of Bucky’s neck. “You could never be a regret for me, Buck. I’d do anything for you, gladly,” he says softly, brushing his thumb along Bucky’s jaw.

Sighing, Bucky puts his hands on Steve’s wrists. “But this isn’t just for me, right?”

“Course not!” Steve replies mock-indignantly. “This is for me too.”

As if Steve’s words are a drug, giddiness spreads throughout Bucky’s head and for the first time in a long time, he feels as if a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders. A smile spreads across his face; the bright, happy kind that hasn’t graced his features since before the war. Steve smiles back, his own giddiness somewhat muted in the face of his awe as his eyes roam over Bucky’s face, attempting to memorize the way it looks.

_I need to smile for Stevie more often,_ Bucky thinks distractedly as he leans forward and presses a quick kiss to Steve’s lips. A heartbeat later he laughs clear and bright before going for another quick kiss. And another, and another, and, just because he can, another one. Each kiss is separated by little peals of laughter, and soon Steve is chuckling along as Bucky peppers his face with light kisses.

Steve catches the next one with his lips, bringing his hand up to frame Bucky’s face and hold him in place, deepening the kiss before sitting back with a happy sigh. Then he eases himself up off the floor and onto the couch next to Bucky. “You good now?”

Bucky laughs again, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck. “Yeah, real good.”

“Great,” Steve replies, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.

“Why’re you grinning like that, Stevie?” Bucky asks coyly.

“Well you see, I’ve got an idea that I’d like to try out,” Steve replies teasingly.

“Well I can’t leave you wondering about it, now can I?” Bucky says quietly, already leaning in to meet Steve’s advance. Their mouths fit together in a very different kind of kiss than before, a kiss filled with heat and a promise of more. It’s slow and languid, and cautiously exploratory. It becomes very obvious that this is new for both of them.

When Steve breaks away to shrug out of his shirt, Bucky pauses, staring. “I thought I was gonna lose my mind during the war,” he rasps, pulling Steve towards him. “Livin in a tent and seeing you half naked all the time.” He runs his hands over Steve’s shoulders and then slides them down his chest, clearly marveling at the feel of it.

“The serum sure did a number on me,” Steve chuckles, biting back a groan as Bucky’s hand slip lower and then yelping when he pinches him.

“I would’ve done this without the serum, Stevie. I just didn’t know it was an option back then.”

“It’s an option now.”

“Yet all we’re doing in yapping,” Bucky complains playfully, squeezing Steve’s ass for emphasis.

Narrowing his eyes, Steve snakes his hands up to hook his fingers in the collar of Bucky’s shirt. “Whoops,” he states casually as he grips the collar and tears the shirt open. Bucky growls and lets go of Steve long enough to pulls the ruined shirt off his shoulders. When the offending garment is gone, he tugs Steve towards him with such force that he ends up half straddling him, which delights Bucky to no end. Steve manages to look shy for about a second, but then Bucky gets his hands on Steve’s ass again and pulls him closer so that their hips align, and they both groan. Any sort of shyness doesn’t surface again after that.

“I’ve never done this before,” Steve pants out.

“Me neither.”

“Pretty sure we’re not supposed to be wearing pants.”

“I’m not letting go of you,” Bucky replies roughly, grinding his hips up into Steve’s again.

 Biting back another groan, Steve reaches down and starts fumbling with the buttons on their jeans. “So we’ll compromise,” he pants, shoving their clothes down and out of the way enough to let flesh meet flesh. Bucky hisses and then bites back a moan as he thrusts forward into Steve’s grip. As always, there’s an element of competition to what they do, and not to be outdone, Bucky slips his hands into Steve’s pants and grabs at his bare ass, prompting a little yelp. His triumphant smirk is replaced by a groan when Steve licks his palm and wraps his hand around them both.

Bucky surges up for a kiss, and from there things become messy and rushed. There’s no finesse in their movements, and quite a few times they fall into breathless laughter when someone’s nose gets bumped or someone makes a particularly embarrassing noise. It never stops them. In fact, it only adds in intensity; it’s very nearly impossible to feel awkward around someone you’ve spent your entire life with.

Bucky orgasms first, a fact Steve will tease him about later, and it feels like a punch to the gut. A strangled sound falls from his lips, and then warmth spreads through his limbs. With a bit of imagination, he can even feel the warmth in his metal arm. Steve follows him over the edge a second later, letting loose a soft little moan, which Bucky will tease _him_ about later. For now, though, Steve slips off of Bucky’s lap and settles on the couch beside him while Bucky cleans up their mess with his ripped up shirt.

“That’s gross, Buck, at least use a rag.”

“This is a rag now, you ripped it. Deal with it,” Bucky grunts, tossing the shirt back to the floor and draping himself over Steve. Chuckling softly, Steve wraps his arm around Bucky as the other man sighs. “Clint is going to be intolerable.”

“I guess you’ll just have to deal with it,” Steve laughs. “He’ll be distracted by babies soon anyway.” Bucky snorts and snuggles closer to Steve, electing to ignore everything that isn’t them for a while. He’s happy, he’s comfortable, and everything else can wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, thank you so much! All of you! Thank you for the lovely comments, and for being so patient, and also thank you for all of you who left comments reminding me to update. I know it doesn't seem like it, but they helped me get my ass in gear and write the last few chapters. Also, I hope you enjoyed the extra story! I remember some of you left a comment or two about wanting more Steve and Bucky, so I've put it in here for you! I've already begun working on the third piece, which will be solid fluff, baby love, and basically me tying up the loose ends of my story. If any of you have anything that you'd like me to include, or suggestions for baby names or something like that, let me know! I'd love to use your opinions to make this story better for all of us! ♥


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